


A Burning Thing

by dragontattoo75



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape, Dubious Consent Related to Heat, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Breeding, Murder, Omega Stiles, Omega Verse, POV Alternating, Possessive Behavior, Self-Lubrication, Violence, Wolf Pack, mentions of male pregnancy, omega rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragontattoo75/pseuds/dragontattoo75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek never trained to be an alpha with all the responsibilities it implies. But after a bloody betrayal, the unlikely happens, and Derek becomes the new leader of the Beacon Hills pack. With his life turned upside down over night, he has to figure out what he’s expected to do with the pack’s omega, a boy he’s done his best to avoid for a decade.<br/><br/>Stiles learned many years ago that giving the omega attention isn’t Derek’s style. Now Stiles’ future doesn’t look too good, because at some point, he and his new alpha has to produce an alpha pup for the pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware of the ATTEMPTED RAPE tag. If you know you might have issues with it, please consider if you'll read this story. The misdeed is done by a kidnapper and not by main characters.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you 35nanou and [Brego_Mellon_Nin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Brego_Mellon_Nin/) for constant support and friendship. Thank you [LosT-in-Twific](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/3683640/) and [Karenec](http://archiveofourown.org/users/karenec/pseuds/karenec/) for pre-reading and [Sue273](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sue273/pseuds/sue273/) for betaing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
>  
> 
> The story is told in alternate point of views with the chapters marking the shift between Derek and Stiles.

 

Derek Hale fell out of bed head first, and half asleep stumbled to his feet with his heart pounding and bile rising in his throat. He staggered into the hall, clawed through the door frame like it was butter, and tuned his senses high in their search for the immediate threat nearby.

But his apartment was all quiet. Below, the neighbor’s dog snored uninterrupted, and out on the busy street, cars drove by at normal speed; all like every other morning at a little past eight in New York City.

So, what the hell was wrong? He shoved his rising panic away. He needed a clear head while he worked out what had woken him up ready to fight or flight.

He raced over the sparse square feet he rented, scrutinized everything, but no one except himself had been there since Laura moved back home with Stiles three years ago.

Derek took deep breaths, focusing inward on what his instincts told him instead of his mind.

Danger threatened his pack.

They needed him back home in Beacon Hills.

***

Derek ripped open the door to the pack house. No hearts beat inside it, but he still might find leads on where to search next. Laura and Stiles' scents were all over the place, as strong and intense as only a lived-in house could have, and Peter and other pack members had been inside during the day.

Out on the porch again, the day had turned to dusk. He attuned his ears to the sounds of the forest, the part of the territory he knew like the inside of his pocket. Everything inside him screamed to help out, and it took all his willpower to stop just for a second to concentrate. The pack’s desperation scourged through him like he’d never experienced before, and even though he'd been in an emergency modus all day, wave after wave of energy flew through him.

It hit him in the gut like a corporal fist. He flew through the forest without conscious thought, and changed into wolf form in mid-air, his paws hitting the soft forest floor to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Anytime now, a huge part of his soul would be ripped out and he had to prevent it to survive. Everything in his world depended on his action.

The softest of sobs changed his course deep inside the forest. He sped into a clearing and almost fell over his own legs.

Blood, tears, and panic hit him like a tidal wave, and he gagged at the sight in front of him: the pack’s slender omega lay sobbing over a bloody corpse, his fragile form oozing despair and darkness. It seemed Derek had arrived too late after all.

Tragedy had already struck, and from the smell of early decay on the corpse and the hoarse way the cries escaped the omega’s throat, it’d happened some time ago.

Changing back to human form, Derek placed all his focus onto the omega, the only beating heart in the clearing besides his own. “Stiles?” he managed to say softly, gliding over and hunching beside the boy.

Stiles didn’t flinch or jump, but seemed to sense the pack through his haze, and gave himself over to Derek, crawling into his lap, clinging to him.

“What’s happened?” Derek murmured, his voice cracking into Stiles' blood-matted hair. His stomach clenched at the thought of the lifeless form beside them, and he kept his gaze firm on the darkness of the forest, breathing carefully, trying not to vomit.

Stiles didn’t answer, just clung to Derek like he could save the omega from this nightmare, as if Derek was his new alpha and not just an ordinary pack beta.

Derek swallowed the bile in his mouth, and, holding his breath, risked casting his gaze askance to the corpse before he snapped it back to the trees again, his heart beating a hundred miles an hour. “Is that … ” His words stuck, but he didn’t try to ask again. He already knew.

Laura lay there, Derek’s older sister’s corpse already cold and decomposing. The pack had lost their alpha, their anchor in life, and the omega’s master.

***

For a moment Derek managed to keep still and stroke Stiles' hair. His hands shook through the bloody strands, his whole body strung tighter than a bow, screaming at him to fly, find his sister’s murderer. But first the omega--clinging to him like a second skin--needed his new alpha, the person he was bonded to in every single way in life, and Derek’s pack obligation made him responsible to unite them.

He looked down at the shaking lump in his lap, and cleared his voice, hoping to make it audible. “Hey, Stiles.” He stroked down the boy’s back, feeling the small, fragile frame tremble under his hand.

Wide, brown eyes met his then, a gaze clouded with misery. The boy in his arms smelled like Stiles--hell, Derek would know his scent anywhere--but the face staring back at him wasn’t the soft one that had left the city with Laura three years ago. Stiles still had his characteristic fine features, but they were now held together by a mature frame.

Derek swallowed his gasp, and focused on making his voice as gentle as possible. “Did you see who did this?”

Stiles bowed his head, casting his eyes to the ground, opposite to where the corpse lay, and whispered.

Derek froze, must have heard wrong. He slid his fingers under Stiles' chin as delicately as he could muster with his rough hand, despite his instincts crying for action. “What did you say?”

“It was Peter who killed Laura,” Stiles mumbled, glancing up at Derek again with tears creating rivers down his blood-dirty face. “Peter killed your sister. I’m so sorry. I . . . I couldn’t stop him!”

Derek grabbed the omega’s shoulder, staring into his eyes. “This isn’t your fault! You hear me? You're an omega and you couldn’t have stopped a beta from doing something like this.”

Stiles turned his face away, clearly not sharing Derek’s opinion, no matter how much stronger than the omega a beta was. “I think Peter ran that way.” He dipped his head to the forest before he looked to the dark sky. “A while ago. It was light then.”

Derek reluctantly faced the remains of his sister. He needed all the clues the corpse could give. He took a shallow breath over Laura’s stomach, above the cut. Underneath the overpowering scent of Stiles, he smelled the other betas on Laura’s body, but no useful information.

Derek rose and searched the ground around them, but saw no trail; he needed to be in wolf form for this.

“Please, don’t leave me!” Stiles pulled at Derek’s arm, sensing the beta’s urgency.

“We need to go.”

Stiles nodded, his eyes huge with fear.

Derek shifted his weight from foot to foot, frustration rippling through his whole body at every second’s passivity. Then Stiles' slender hand slipped into his own callused one, and he sucked in a breath, snapped his gaze to their joined hands.

“I too need to find Peter,” Stiles said, hiccupping.

Derek shook the omega’s hand out of his own. It pained him to state the obvious. “Yes, after killing Laura, Peter’s your new alpha now. You need to be with him.” He changed, his snout tracking Peter’s smell on the ground at a quick pace, and trusted the omega to follow.

***

The moment Derek picked up on Peter’s scent, he ran, racing in the direction Stiles had pointed out. He heard feet running after him, a breath panting and cursing through the trees; Stiles followed, but quickly lost ground with his smaller omega body. The strongest of pack instincts rushed through Derek’s veins: the urge to protect the weaker omega wrestled with his need to find Peter, and won. His paws slowed on their own for Stiles to catch up, and soon a hand gripped his fur.

They ran at a slower pace, with Derek reading the signs in front of them. Several times, Stiles pulled at Derek’s fur and the beta reluctantly slowed down.

A faint sound caught his sensitive hearing, and he cocked his ears towards it, stopping. Stiles bumped into him, falling to the ground. Derek sprinted towards the voices.

Pack.

“Oh my god!” Stiles gasped, bumping into Derek for a second time.

Standing in a tight circle around their new alpha in his huge wolf form, the rest of the pack betas were arguing. Stinking of sweat, blood, and fury, their adrenalin overpowered their exhaustion.

Peter twisted to Derek, and the circle hushed. His new alpha’s gaze burned like a torch to Derek’s soul, pushing his beta buttons--the instinct to protect the alpha--but his consciousness held him back for now. He swallowed his instincts, and by his side, Stiles instantly grabbed his arm.

Derek approached the circle slowly with the omega in tow, taking in information to slot the pieces of the puzzle into place: Kira’s shaky grip on her katana, Allison's crossbow vibrating with tension, and the torn expression on all the betas’ faces. Everyone struggled like him: instinct vs intellect.

“Derek!” Allison spat, her gaze and aim glued to Peter. “He murdered Laura!”

Derek scowled. “I know that!” His gaze swept over the betas with their worn-out appearance, stopping at Scott, and he shouted, “Why didn’t you have Stiles with you? You never leave the omega unprotected no matter what!”

“I’m sorry, Derek! We’ve hunted Peter all afternoon!”

Stiles tugged at his hand, and Derek reluctantly turned to him. “Please, Derek, you have to do something about Peter. You can’t let him get away with this.”

Peter snapped his teeth towards his betas’ throats, spitting and snarling, his paws clawing at them.

“Hey! No, you don’t.” Boyd and Isaac forced Peter into the middle of the group with their muscles bulging while the rest closed further in on the alpha. Blood leaked from their wounds, their bodies strained to their breaking point.

“Look!” Erica shouted, not taking her eyes off Peter, who attacked everything within his reach. Blood splattered from Boyd’s cheek in a deep cut. The alpha would succeed any second now. “Everything’s right here.” Erica kicked at containers by her feet, the smell of chemicals hitting Derek’s nostrils, their plan evident.

He stepped forward and joined the circle of the other betas, urgency pumping through his veins. They had to be quick, before Peter managed to free himself or one of them gave in to the instinct to protect their alpha.

Peter raged and pleaded, and tried every trick in the book to make them stop. “We must secure our pack's future, you idiots!” He ripped loose from Isaac’s grasp on his arm, roaring, “Let go, you child, and run off to your bed!”

He kicked at Kira but she jumped backwards just in time, and then Peter's face twisted from Hyde to Jekyll, switching to pleading and regretful. “Derek, my nephew! I’ve worked for years to persuade Laura to breed the omega, to secure our pack’s future, but she never listened to reason! Derek, Laura refused to do her job as an alpha! The only way left for me to make everything right, was to kill her so I became the alpha and could breed the omega myself! I know _you’ll_ listen to reason--these kids don’t know what they’re doing!”

Derek sensed the circle of betas waited for something, and suddenly he realized they waited for _his_ decision. He stepped forward. He opened his mouth, but a smaller figure brushed past him, and he shut his mouth in surprise.

The omega--the weakest of the pack members, the fragile form that needed the others' protection--grabbed one of the cans and in a flash threw the contents on the alpha.

A second passed before everyone gasped in unison. Scott threw a waiting match on Peter and his fur caught the flames, roaring into fire, consuming his screaming body instantly.

In his shock, Derek still had the presence to snatch Stiles back, pulled the boy away from the flames and behind his own bigger form, and gaped at the vision of Peter’s eyes rolling and his flesh burning. Stiles clung to Derek’s arm, whimpering, and that--if nothing else--made Derek realize what he had to do.

He ripped off the omega’s jacket and threw it over Peter’s head, stifling the flames for a second, and snapped Peter’s neck, the alpha's blood splashing and his head rolling as his body fell to the ground.

***

After the longest night of his life, Derek entered the pack house again in the day’s first sunrays. Derek had become the alpha after ending Peter’s life, and he carried his sleeping omega over the threshold like a groom with his groom from an arranged marriage.

Despite the new powers lurking in his body and his mind still in full action mode, Derek felt exhaustion down to the bone. He carried Stiles--stinking of chemicals, fire and blood--up to the second floor and entered the master bedroom. The king size bed had obviously been Laura’s from the intensity of her scent there. Derek took a deep breath of the air, but didn’t smell Stiles on it. Okay, so they hadn’t shared a bed then.

Looking around the room, he eyed the couch by the window; it'd have to do for now. He lowered the sleeping bundle onto the cushions and grabbed Laura’s comforter from the bed, tucking Stiles in with it. His gaze rested on the quiet form for a second, the creature that had abruptly become bonded to him for life. When the omega woke up, he’d be buried in familiar scents. That was all Derek could do for him right now.

He closed the door and walked downstairs, headed for the living room where he lay down on the couch. He heard the restless pacing of Stiles' beta guard on duty out on the porch. Derek squeezed his burning eyes closed, trying to force his mind to shut off for a couple of hours before his new responsibilities couldn't wait any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles woke to distant voices from below, Laura’s scent on the comforter cocooning him.

He sat up, feeling stiff and achy all over, noticing he wore his clothes and not sleeping pants and t-shirt like every other night. He glanced out of the window and saw the sun sitting higher in the sky than usual. With a frown he looked around. He’d slept in Laura’s bedroom, on his alpha’s couch.

His heart began galloping before his mind caught up. He threw Laura’s comforter away from his lap, and--hitting him like a ton of bricks--a stench rose from his clothes; a nauseating blend of blood and chemicals. Holy fuck! He gasped for air, clutching his chest. It all came crashing in; yesterday’s horrible nightmare where he’d witnessed his alpha being killed, and participated in killing his next one.

The door crashed open, and in a haze Stiles more felt than saw his newest alpha’s huge wolf form filling the doorway, his wild gaze searching, like danger lurked inside this very bedroom. Stiles tried to stand, had to catch his breath, but his knees refused to take his weight. But instead of falling, his alpha's strong arms caught him, and Stiles clung to him like a baby monkey to its mother.

“Shh,” Derek rumbled as Stiles blinked, finding himself in Derek’s human form's lap on the couch, the man’s hand on his neck. Having his alpha close comforted Stiles, the bond between them only a few hours old, but nevertheless like a newborn baby’s, with a whole set of instincts in place right from the start.

"Laura’s dead," he whimpered, unable to control himself.

Derek’s fingers gripped at Stiles' hair strands, reminding him that his alpha hurt too, and perhaps hearing his sister’s name made Derek tense up. Not feeling alone in his misery, Stiles glanced at the man's face.

 _God_! Derek looked exactly the same as the last time Stiles saw him at the airport in New York, when Stiles had followed Laura back to Beacon Hills. Laura had finished her education and returned to take back her role as alpha of Beacon Hills, the job Peter had taken on while Laura became ready.

Stiles wished they’d never come back here, but left Peter to rule Beacon Hills and the rest of the pack for forever. If they’d still lived in the city, Laura would have been alive and Stiles' alpha, and everything wouldn't be so horrible, and . . .  definitely less complicated. Stiles buried his face against Derek’s chest, his tears and snot covering Derek’s skin.

Later, he had only hiccups left, his brain felt like cotton, and embarrassment over his breakdown flooded through him. Here he’d sobbed his heart out to the man who hadn’t only lost his sister and alpha last night, but also his uncle, a supposedly reliable pack member. And Stiles had helped to murder him.

The unthinkable had happened: the brother of his previous alpha had become the new leader of the Beacon Hills pack, head seat of the Territory Council and . . . God! _Derek_ was Stiles' new master. He’d never in a million years thought Derek would become the alpha to his omega.

 _Oh my god_! Stiles quickly pushed the implications to the back of his mind. He swallowed hard, shivering. He’d become Derek’s omega to take care of--in every way, for the rest of their lives.

He blinked, realizing he’d been staring into Derek’s green eyes for a long time, and Derek had let him, silently. Shit! Stiles pushed himself away, struggling with his leg caught between Derek’s. Derek steadied him and sat him down on the couch, catching his gaze once more. Stiles fidgeted, not able to hold Derek’s heavy stare, too embarrassed by his own behavior and . . . ugh! Why did he have to notice Derek’s gorgeous eyes and handsome, rough features at a time like this?

"Stiles." Derek’s voice caught in the simple word, making Stiles' stomach clench. Had Derek forgotten about him after three years apart? Seeing him again, Stiles still felt sad about the loss of the connection they'd shared as kids.

"Mm?" Stiles dried his sweaty hands on his thighs, studying the long shadows on the floor.

"Omega. Look at me when I speak to you." Derek raised Stiles' chin, forcing their gazes to meet.

Stiles blinked, sucked in a breath. “Yeah?” he croaked.

Derek looked stern, miserable even, and had exhausted crinkles around his eyes. And here Stiles sat making everything worse for the man. He had to do better.

“I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?” All Derek’s previous softness in his gaze had disappeared, his posture now rigid. That Derek’s fingers had just been in Stiles' hair felt ridiculous all of a sudden.

Derek stared at him, and Stiles realized the man waited for an answer. “Yes.”

“I know you never expected _me_ to become your alpha. All of this was never supposed to happen to us,” Derek said, his voice strangled, and it looked as though he had to force his jaw to soften enough to be able to speak and spit the words out. His face was anguished. “But now it has, and I need for you to accept it.”

Stiles stared at him, not sure what to say. Of course he’d never expected Laura to die. But since yesterday actually _had_ happened, he felt relieved that Derek sat there on the couch with him, and not Peter. Stiles shuddered at the thought of _Peter_ being his alpha and all it implied.

“Can you?”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbled. He could imagine how little Derek wanted to be here, having Stiles as his omega, and be responsible for him in every way.

Derek gave a curt nod and strode out of the room.

***

The following weeks, Stiles didn’t see much of Derek. Stiles continued to sleep on the couch in the master bedroom, wrapped up in Laura’s old comforter, even though he had his own room at the end of the hall. Nightmares interrupted his sleep, but waking to Laura’s scent always calmed his frantic heartbeat.

In the mornings, Derek was always gone when Stiles came downstairs. He never took Stiles with him to meetings in the Territory Council like Laura had, where the alpha of Beacon Hills had the head seat, or to any of his other responsibilities. Stiles didn’t complain. The first weeks after the tragedy, Stiles used up all his energy on just trying to get through the essential routines of life; shower, get dressed, eat. Besides, he knew Derek must be extremely busy with a lot of unpleasantness in the aftermath, not to mention the innumerable new things for him to learn.

Stiles was never alone though.

Today, he found Scott, his favorite pack member, on duty. If Stiles had to name someone as his best friend, he’d think of Scott reflexively.

"Hey, buddy!" He clapped the beta on the shoulder in passing the living room couch.

Scott grinned at him from his video game, and fondness rushed through Stiles. He’d be forever grateful that his guards these days were allowed to spend time with him while on duty, wearing regular clothes, and that times had changed. In the old days, two guards stood by the front door of the pack house in full armor when the omega was inside. Not to mention all the alienating precautions that were taken when the omega was _outside_.

Being an omega was hard in itself, but the isolation it involved in the old days--the dark era, as Stiles prefered to call it--fitted Stiles' personality very badly.

"So, Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake!" Scott lost the fight he played on the screen with a curse, and turned it off.

Stiles snickered, glancing over his shoulder, and saw Scott follow him into the kitchen. The clock showed 7.30 A.M.

Scott sat down at the table, pulled the bowl of fruit towards him, and picked an apple, rubbing it against his sweater before taking a huge bite all the way into the core.

Stiles busied himself with making coffee and toast, and didn't bother to ask if Scott wanted some as well; that went without saying when it came to beta metabolism. Stiles always made thrice as much for his guard on duty as he'd eat himself.

"So, my friend, what's Derek doing these days?" Stiles asked, keeping his tone casual. He burned himself on the bread from the toaster, and threw the slices on their plates, wincing. He turned to the table, catching Scott snatch his gaze from Stiles to out of the window. Stiles set the plates down, and poured coffee, silently offering a cup to Scott, which the beta shook his head to, the apple stem between his front teeth.

Scott grabbed orange juice from the fridge instead and filled their glasses. "Why don't you ask Derek that question yourself?" He took out yoghurt and slices of ham from the fridge too, and filled his own plate. Stiles shook his head at his offer.

"Well ... " Stiles picked up his toast, plucking off the crust. "I can't ask him anything if he's never around, now can I?"

Scott shrugged, chewing with bulging cheeks.

"But I suppose I know what he's doing.” Stiles took a sip of his scalding coffee before he bit off a tiny bit of his bread. “When he’s not training with you guys or barking orders, I bet he's scowling in jaw-cracking territory meetings, signing papers with his messy handwriting, and growling to drawn faces in crisp suits."

Scott emptied his glass of juice in one go and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before grinning at Stiles. "Spot on."

Stiles smiled back. "Yeah, I can't exactly say I miss that part of following Laura around. The uncountable meetings bored me to death." Stiles clasped his hand over his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about Laura since she died, just pushed the memories of her out of his mind as soon as they popped up. “Shit,” he muttered, embarrassed and dried his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie in an abrupt movement.

“Hey.” Scott squatted down beside him and placed his warm hand on Stiles' back, and Stiles melted into the simple connection. It’d been months since his alpha touched him; not since Derek and he had sat on Laura’s couch upstairs. Laura used to be very tactile around him, without Stiles being conscious about it until he’d lost Laura’s hand on his back, his brief hugs, or simply sitting close beside her. Stiles mourned the loss of Laura’s touch, missed it like he would an essential body part. It didn’t matter how much he socialized with the betas, was casually touched by them, or scented--Stiles still felt a strong urge for attention from his alpha.

But Stiles learned many years ago that giving the omega attention wasn’t Derek’s style.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Exhaustion rippled through Derek like never before.

His head seat in the Territory Council and responsibility as the pack leader took all his waking hours. He needed to learn how to use his new alpha powers, which constantly sizzled underneath his skin, to his pack’s advantage, something Laura had grown up doing as the pack’s alpha pup. But when Derek came home at night to a quiet house with Stiles and sometimes betas sleeping, he acknowledged Stiles' guard before collapsing on the living room couch, his skin too tight for his alpha instincts somehow.

It felt wrong sleeping down there with the new bond pulling him upstairs, into Laura’s old room, where a heart beat steadily.

As a beta, Derek had always thought of the omega as a person with likes and dislikes as any other pack member, and not some animal-like creature purely driven by instincts, existing only for the alpha’s pleasure and to be the bearer of the pack's future alpha. He felt dead set on not altering his views, although so much had changed for him. Every night he clawed at the pillow under his head, and refused to give in to his body’s demands. He intended to keep these alpha instincts under wrap, no matter how strongly they pulled.

Besides, his new instincts confused him, and to figure them out, he needed lots of energy. Just the thought of it made him dizzy.

***

Derek closed the front door behind him, smelling Scott on duty. The last few days, he’d sent the guard away at night. If he--the alpha himself--couldn’t look after his own omega, what kind of alpha would he be?

In the living room, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Stiles was sleeping on the couch in Scott’s arms, the TV on, with the sound muted. Scott glanced up, and Derek thought he saw a determined look in his beta’s eyes as he carefully extracted himself from Stiles' form, sat up, turning the TV completely off.

A sudden wave of irritation washed over Derek at the sight of his omega in the arms of his beta. He fisted his hands and gnashed his teeth, trying to hold back on this new possessive alpha instinct. His exhaustion made him weak and rattled his resolve to treat Stiles as just another pack member with free will.

He drew his palms over his face, heading for the kitchen to grab something to eat. He needed energy to muster strength to deal with his beta, but Scott followed him in there, making Derek want to growl at him. Derek opened the fridge and sighed in relieved at the sight of a plate with a hefty helping of leftovers at the bottom shelf, covered in plastic wrap. He threw it in the microwave and dropped the plastic in the trashcan, glancing over at his beta.

Scott closed the door to the living room as relaxed as ever, sending Derek a look that was impossible to interpret.

Derek tried to relax too, to appear comfortable with his new alpha powers even if he felt this close to collapse. Scott had always been close with Stiles, and Derek had a hard time meeting his beta’s gaze. Annoyed, he stared at the buttons on the microwave. It wasn’t like he was about to meet his new boyfriend's best friend or anything.

“So, what’s going on with you and Stiles?” Scott leaned his hip against the counter beside Derek, his arms crossed over his chest.

Derek scowled at him before he turned his gaze to his swirling dinnerplate. “You have no right to lie on the couch with my omega like that, as you should well know. And our relationship is none of your business.”

Scott got in Derek’s face--turned out to he had a death wish tonight. “Stiles is my business. Period.”

“I’m your alpha!” Derek stared hard at his beta, watching him struggle before Scott looked away in the end. Derek gnashed his teeth. “The omega’s needs are met. He’s fed, protected.”

Scott scowled. Derek knew he should knock some sense into the beta, show him his place in the hierarchy and teach him to respect his alpha. If he'd find the energy to do it.

“Stiles needs more from you. There’s only so much us betas can do for the omega; it’s only the alpha that can work his magic. Spend some time with him, not lock him up in this house like . . . like a pet.” Scott flapped his hands out.

The microwave pinged and Derek grabbed the plate, snatched a fork before flopping down at the table. “I know damn well that the omega isn’t the alpha’s pet, Scott. Don’t talk to me like I live in the old days. I’m not an idiot.”

Scott’s dark gaze burned into Derek, his usually amiable tone hard. “No, you’re right. You don’t treat Stiles like he’s a pet, you treat him like some _furniture_. He needs his alpha close!” Scott dragged his fingers through his hair, making it stick up like a moron. “Look, I know you’re completely new to this and shit, but you must’ve noticed the way Laura behaved around Stiles--always keeping him close, including him in her life." He sighed, frowning at Derek. "Hey, I’m not telling you to fucking breed him right now or anything. The rest of us betas don't think like Peter did. Just spend some time with him, will you?”

The food in Derek’s mouth tasted like rubber all of a sudden, and he had to drink water to force it down, even if he a moment ago had been hungry as hell. “I don’t have time for him, Scott! In case you haven’t noticed already, I’m up to my goddamn neck with shit after my uncle went on a crazy binge!”

Scott stared at Derek, his gaze losing some of its hardness, and Derek felt like an idiot for the words that had spewed out of his mouth. If he hadn’t felt so out of his limb, he’d smack that expression right off his beta’s face. Fuck if he’d have a beta pity him, or anything!

“I know,” Scott sighed. “I know you’re busy, and as your pack member I appreciate your dedication to becoming a good alpha, but Stiles is like a best friend to me, and not only my pack’s omega. We all wish Laura still lived, but it doesn’t change the fact that Stiles needs you!”

“Fuck!” Derek pushed away his barely eaten food, disgusted. “I don’t exactly know how to do all this stuff,” he admitted grudgingly in the end, too exhausted to try to keep Scott at bay, turning his eyes to the window and the darkness outside. "There’s a fucking lot of expectations from the Territory Council, and we need a strong leader right now--for the pack and for protection of our territory--since what’s happened here’s spread like wildfire. I’ve never learned how to do any of this shit and I never asked for it!”

Derek would have to do his best to trust his beta with this, because right now, he couldn’t find the energy to care about putting his weakness on display.

“Derek, no one’s expecting miracles from you from day one, but rather trial and error for a while. ” Scott’s tone softened further after Derek’s confession, and he realized that, through his sleepy haze, he’d made the right call. Scott continued, and Derek watched him now. “Everyone understands these things take time to learn, and especially after trauma and violence like we’ve suffered. But you were always close with your sister, and she was an excellent alpha, so even if you’re not conscious about it, you know a lot from studying her. Besides, you’ve always been a natural leader.”

Derek stared at his beta. He’d never expected anything like this coming out of his mouth--for Scott to be so supportive.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that!” Scott pushed himself off the counter, snatching Derek’s full plate. “I’m only trying to build you up so you’ll relax a bit, and focus on your other responsibilities too!”

“Like the omega,” Derek deadpanned, watching Scott shovel Derek’s discarded food into his mouth. If he hadn't been completely exhausted, he'd punch his beta for taking his food, even if he himself obviously wasn't going to eat it.

“You start by calling him by his name.”

Derek sent Scott a disgusted look, and pushed himself away from the table, rubbing his burning eyes.

Scott placed the empty plate in the sink, and turned scowling. “I heard you’ve been sending the guard home at night lately. You sure that’s safe?”

Derek grabbed Scott by the collar and pushed him into the hall, fed up. “Just get out of here.”

Scott flashed him an angry gaze, grabbing his jacket. He mockingly saluted Derek before he closed the door behind him.

 _God damn it all to hell_.

***

Derek finally re-entered the living room and studied Stiles, sleeping soundly, looking peaceful with his face buried in the pillow Derek had used lately. Stiles occupied most of the couch that was barely big enough for Derek’s own form. He sighed, tapping his balled up fists against his thighs, looking for available space. _When did little Stiles get this tall_?

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, taking the stairs two steps at a time, his feet making no sound whatsoever. He hovered outside Laura’s room with his fingers curled around the handle for a moment before he took a deep breath and entered.

His sister’s scent hit him straight away--he’d steeled himself for it--but instead of the fist in the gut he’d expected, he found himself calming. After weeks of Stiles sleeping in here, Laura’s smell mixed with the omega’s, like it’d been when the three of them lived in the apartment in the city. It didn’t trigger sadness as he’d feared, but something good--familiar and _right_.

He picked up Laura’s comforter from the couch, wanting more of this good feeling. Fingering with the fabric, he raised it to his face and inhaled deeply, but instantly staggered backwards. What was left of Laura’s scent on it was overpowered by Stiles'. The omega consumed Derek, rushed through his veins, and made him feel light-headed and shaky--quite the opposite of what he wanted. He quickly threw it away, ripped off his jeans and shirt, and fell down on the bed, burying his face in his late sister’s dusty pillow.

His whole body screamed for sleep, and he expected his mind to swirl with stress like it usually did as soon as he closed his eyes. All the thoughts he struggled to keep at bay during the day, the tragedy and misery, his self-doubt and expectations of the failures he’d make--things he worked hard to hide from others--always came up in the dark.

At first Scott’s words swirled at the surface of his mind. Only Derek could fill the role as the alpha now, no matter if he wanted it or not, and he’d obviously neglected Stiles' needs. The omega was a complete mystery and Derek wondered how to solve it.

But breathing in the scent of his sister that still permeated the bed made Derek feel close to Laura. Almost like Laura held his hand from the other side, Derek’s mind slowed down and his breath evened out.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles woke to a smiling Erica staring down at him, her long hair falling over her shoulder, tickling his chin like a feather.

“Jesus!” He jumped, and snatched the blanket he’d been partially covered with over his lap.

Erica held her hands on her hips, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a smile splitting her face into a full on grin. “Mm,” she hummed, sniffing the air. “Smells like someone had a good dream; a nice one.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Stiles aimed for her head with his pillow, but she jumped backwards with a practiced move. “Fuck you!” he grumbled, not feeling awake enough yet to be clever. He picked the pillow up from the floor, still half asleep, shrugging at her discovery.

“I’d love to, sweetheart,” she replied in her teasing tone, way too chipper for him this early, “but there’s someone upstairs, sleeping in Laura’s room that would rip my head off if I tried, or so much as looked at you as a sexual being.”

This time Stiles didn’t throw anything at her, instead he closed his mouth with a snap, focusing on this intriguing new information. “Derek’s sleeping in Laura’s room?”

Erica froze for a second, looking up. “Yep!” She grinned and headed to the kitchen, throwing her answer over her shoulder. “Snoring like a train in fact!”

Stiles followed after her, tying his sweatpants. His clothes had become too loose lately, he realized with a frown. He should make an effort to eat healthy again, as was a part of his omega responsibilities. The pack needed his body to be ready at all times to be a robust vessel for a new alpha pup.

“Derek doesn’t snore!” He defended his alpha . . .  Huh, what a surprising thought! Before Derek became his new alpha, Stiles would have been be the first one to mock him for snoring.

Erica studied him with her hand frozen mid-air with clean plates she’d started unloading from the dishwasher. “Whassit?”

“Ah, nothing. I just had an epiphany.”

“Ha! Before your first dose of caffeine?” She finished clearing the washer with her back to him, easily lifting twice the burden Stiles could. “Sometimes I wish I had your brain,” she said.

She reached to the upper shelf standing on her tip toes, the orange squeezer in her fingertips, and he snatched it from her, placing it there with ease. “And my height?” He winked at her, grabbed bread from the plastic bag on the counter, and slipped it into the toaster. “So, you wish you had my hyper brain?”

Erica bumped his shoulder on her way to the fridge, and Stiles had to grab the counter not to fall. “Tell me about your great _epiphany_ ,” she said, taking out cheese and half a cucumber.

Stiles had slept surprisingly well on the living room couch, better than on the one in Laura’s room actually, and he thought clearly for the first time in weeks. The fact that he’d slept better on a couch smelling like Derek rather than of Laura was merely a coincidence.

The coffeemaker beeped. “I was just thinking about the new alpha thing,” he said, scratching his chin before he found them cups and poured the hot liquid, adding a dash of milk to Erica’s.

She hummed, encouraging him to continue. She grabbed the finished bread and placed plates on the table, one in front of Stiles.

He smeared jam on his toast, glancing at her with a smile. He’d start eating healthily from lunch on. “You know the alpha/omega bond is instinct and lots of things I’m not really aware of are happening to me.”

She nodded and took a sip of her coffee. Stiles hurried to lick up jam dripping from his toast, her gaze on him.

“Yeah, so,” he said between mouthfuls, “it’s just a tiny thing. I realized I defended Derek when before I would be the first one to talk shit about him. And I thought that must be some instinct. I mean, I have no real reason to behave differently toward him, or to have developed feelings for him, or anything, right?”

Erica studied him, a thoughtful look on her face.

He continued. “I mean, you know as well as I do how little he likes me.” He took a sip of his coffee before he sat it down, looking out the window for a moment, not really seeing the forest outside. “It’s Derek I have the clearest memories of from when I was a little kid, except for Laura and Talia, of course. Of all the pack in the house, Derek came the closest to a sibling for me. I remember following him around everywhere, sitting on his lap, and playing with him. I thought he loved Star Wars lego just as much as I did even though he was older than me.”

Stiles turned back to face Erica, and when she nodded, he admitted, “But suddenly one day he started treating me like air. I have no idea what I did, but it was obviously something wrong. I remember crying and knocking on his door, before Laura or Talia came to get me.” He flapped his hands out, sighing deep. “He’s been like that ever since. Even in the apartment Laura and I shared with him in New York, he hardly spoke to me. If I came inside a room with him in it, he quickly found a reason to escape.”

Erica chewed on her lip, frowning, her cheese seemed to be forgotten in her fingers frozen halfway to her mouth.

Stiles took a deep breath, letting out something that’d nagged him since Laura died. “I know he doesn’t like me, and now we’re stuck together for the rest of our lives. Sure he can get a wife or whatever the heck he chooses, but if he wants an alpha-pup, he needs to . . . “ He swiped his hand downward himself, unable to say the words.

Erica grabbed his balled up fist. “Hey, I really think you should speak to Derek. You need to get his side of the story. I know it’s none of my business, but I _have_ noticed him behaving differently around you than he does with everyone else, that’s true.” She smiled a little sad at him. “You know I never saw how he treated you before I became pack, but for as long as I can remember, he’s always seemed . . . I don’t know--shy around you.”

Stiles sat back in his chair, laughing humorlessly.

“It’s true!” Erica persisted. “I’ve always thought it was because you’re the pack’s omega and inevitably need some special treatment. He’s never been as relaxed around you as with the rest of us, where he’s been casual and a part of the group, you know?”

“Fuck! It’s even worse than I thought.”

“No! I mean, it’s in a good way. I think ... ”

Stiles bit his lip, placing his hand over his racing heart. How could this possibly be a good thing for him?

“Hey, what do I know, right?” Erica backtracked, tucking her hair behind her ear before plucking up a slice of cucumber to go with her cheese. “The way I see Derek, he’s always been very protective of you, even more so than any of us other betas. But he’s not quiet around you because he doesn’t like you, I think, it’s more like . . .” She shrugged, frowning, tapping her lip for a second.. “. . . like he has no idea what to say to you.”

Stiles crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So, what you’re saying is that I’m making him uncomfortable?”

“Exactly!”

Stiles scowled at the grinning beta, finding this whole conversation going down the drain. “And in what universe is that a good thing?”

Erica picked up her discarded toast and stuffed her mouth before she swallowed and said exasperatedly, “And here I was thinking I wanted your brain.”

Stiles eyed her, trying to make sense of her words.

“Well, Stiles, I’m not going to say a peep more, so suck it up, think it over, and when you have your next epiphany, seek him out and _talk_ to him, for god’s sake.”

Stiles thought he heard her mutter " _Boys_!" but he didn’t have beta hearing, so he couldn’t be sure.

***

After finishing breakfast with Erica, Stiles gave in without too much of a fight and did as she told him to, letting his curiosity get the better of him. He left her in the living room where she was flapping through a handgun magazine and chewing her gum, and carried a breakfast tray up to Laura’s room with hands that sloshed the coffee barely below the edge of the cup. Unable to knock, he pushed the door carefully open with his elbow and hip, peering inside.

Derek lay in the middle of the king size bed, sprawled out on his stomach with his hands tucked under the pillow, not unlike how Laura had prefered to sleep. Luckily for Stiles' sanity--and the state of Derek’s breakfast--the man wore underwear.

Yeah, growing up amongst a pack of werewolf shifters made Stiles used to seeing the members in various states of undress--no one was shy like that with their changing between wolf- and human form--but for some reason, Stiles couldn’t remember seeing _Derek_ much without clothes. He frowned. His new alpha was probably unusually shy about his body. Stiles nodded to himself, then froze halfway into the room. Fuck, he shouldn’t have come inside here without Derek’s permission. Because whatever reasons Derek had for hiding his body,  he’d never have gone to all that trouble while growing up without having a deliberate reasoning behind it. And Stiles should have respected that. They were going to live together for the rest of their lives, so there had to be some rules for their interaction, like respecting each others privacy.

Clearly Derek wouldn’t appreciate Stiles watching him in deep sleep--his usually hardened face all vulnerable and soft. Stiles swallowed roughly through the sandpaper that had suddenly become the inside of his throat. He felt so stupid; standing there gaping at Derek’s sleeping form, his skin and dark hair a stark contrast to the white sheets. But how could he not? Just look at that back!

_Snap out of it, you moron_! He shook his head. Before Derek explicitly told him to stay away, he’d do his best to read Derek’s body language to learn how to speak Alpha-Derek. The easiest thing in the world would be to let his gaze linger on Derek’s form, so it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.

He strode over to the nightstand and placed the tray there, before pulling back the curtains covering the window. Sunrays streamed inside, shining on the air thick with dust.

Derek still slept deeply. Some kind of alpha, huh? Thinking he could look after his omega alone all night when he slept like the dead with Stiles barging in there ogling him, or whatever!

He nudged Derek’s muscular shoulder carefully. “Hey,” he whispered, and took a step back. Better to not poke a sleeping bear.

Derek blinked his eyes open, rolling over to his side, exposing his front. All of it. Every. Single. Ab.

Stiles snapped Laura’s comforter from the couch in panic, and threw it over Derek’s body who met his gaze with a disoriented expression. Quick, think of gross things. Think about _Peter the alpha murderer_ lying there, almost naked. Stiles vomited a little in his mouth.

“Mh.” Derek cleared his voice, his face confused and softer than Stiles had ever seen. Perhaps Derek thought he was dreaming. “Whass the time?”

“It’s nine.” Stiles twisted his hands, eying the mattress beside Derek’s form for a moment before he backtracked, and sat carefully on the couch. Luckily, Derek didn’t tell him to fuck off.

Derek squinted his eyes as though unsure about Stiles' presence in the room, so Stiles pointed to the tray. “I brought you breakfast.” Derek’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned his face to the food, his senses clearly not awake enough yet to smell the coffee. “You did?” He scooted up in the bed and leaned his back against the bed frame, placing the tray carefully in his lap, inhaling deeply.

Observing him closely, Stiles thought he discerned a hint of satisfaction on Derek’s face. Feeling pleased, he let himself glance over Derek’s nearly-naked form while the man ate.

Stiles might have wiped some drool from his chin.

“So,” he said low a moment later, not trusting his voice to hold. “Everyone seems to think I should talk to you.”

Derek’s gaze snapped to Stiles', suddenly guarded and suspicious, and Stiles couldn’t find any more words. He _knew_ it’d been a bad idea to confide in Erica. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut?

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Silently, Derek watched Stiles sit on Laura’s couch looking as though he was trying his best to slink into the background. And Derek wondered for probably the hundredth time why the omega had to be so damn confusing all the time. Like now: he’d brought Derek breakfast in bed, of all things, and said they should talk, but then turned like a switch, acting as the pet Scott accused Derek of associating with his omega.

Derek frowned, stabbing his omelet with the fork. He suspected this omega business would always be frustrating.

As a little kid, from the minute Stiles learned to walk--or run, in his case--he’d followed Derek around the pack house, talking nonstop. He crawled into Derek’s lap with a book in his hand, and Derek read it to him. Stiles played outside with Scott, and came inside crying with a bloody knee, Derek patched him up and dried his eyes. Stiles peered inside Derek’s bedroom door when he did his homework, and he’d let Stiles come in and play with his action figures. He didn’t mind at all, because Stiles always smelled good, looked cute, and adored Derek. Besides, like the rest of the betas, Derek’s instincts told him to take care of the omega and protect him at all costs.

He’d constantly had Stiles' gaze on him while growing up; the kid studied him with those wide eyes of his, encircled by thick lashes he knew how to fan to get Derek’s attention. The way Stiles used to look up to Derek as if _Derek_ was someone to worship--he’d basked in it.

But as they grew older, Stiles' good smell and those omega eyes started to do things to him--things he could never let their alpha sense if Derek valued his life in the pack--even if the alpha was his own mother or sister.

These alpha/omega instincts were complicated, and mostly incomprehensible to betas, and everyone knew not to mess with it. So he soon put an end to Stiles favoriting him in any way--for the sake of Derek’s life in the pack and for his mental wellbeing. Stiles would never be his anyway, no question about it.

These days, Stiles' face had lost the last traces of its childhood roundness, and those brown eyes just seemed clearer in the contrast of the light skin, tight over his mature features. And now he and Derek belonged together, with the strongest of pack bonds controlling their instincts.

Derek swallowed hard, licking his lips. So what were these instincts that made them One, everything he up until now had known not to mess with?

What did Stiles' previous alphas know that Derek didn’t?

And what were the rules?

Especially the unwritten ones?

Derek ate his breakfast to the soundtrack of Stiles' heart beating above average fast for him. Sweat formed on Stiles' upper lip as he sat still, and he rubbed the heel of his hand over his mouth under Derek's scrutiny.

Surprisingly, Derek had had a good night's sleep for once, his mind clearer than it'd been for some time now, and he’d gathered some spare energy to _think_. While eating, he considered Scott’s words from last night: that he needed to spend time with Stiles, and that there were things only the alpha could do for the omega.

He’d spend this day with Stiles.

“Erica!” he called out, and Stiles jumped on the couch.

“What?” Derek heard from below, her voice filled with amusement.

Derek massaged his forehead with his fingers. “Just get out of here,” he told her.

Erica chuckled, and soon there were only two heartbeats inside the house.

Derek glanced at Stiles. He had the most gorgeous eyes Derek had ever seen, and even if those looking at him were nervous and unsure at the moment, Derek didn’t blame him. He patted the side of the mattress Stiles had eyed before. “Why don’t you come over here?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded comforting, and deliberately turned his focus away from the boy to his food. He hadn’t eaten as much as he should lately, and he needed to start taking care of his body again. He had a lot of responsibilities, and besides being able to physically protect his omega, his instincts told him to make sure he produced healthy sperm for creating the pack’s alpha pup.

He felt the mattress dip beside him while he finished up, and he smiled to himself, brushing crumbs off his chest. He sat the tray back at the nightstand before he met Stiles' unsure gaze steadily. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Stiles widened his eyes as though Derek had fallen to the bed from an UFO.

Derek scowled. No way was he that unapproachable.

“Look,” he said, not quite sure what to actually say or how to express it. “Things are the way they are, and even though neither of us want to be in this situation, we need to find a way to get along.”

He watched Stiles' mouth fall, looking almost as a kicked puppy with his wide eyes. So, here he received the proof. Stiles truly didn’t want him as his alpha. Stiles hated it. Derek understood it after the way he’d practically treated Stiles like air while they grew older, and had probably hurt Stiles' feelings or some shit, but Derek never had an alternative. Fuck! He wanted to hit something, but the omega needed sensitivity and delicacy.

Stiles probably wouldn’t like Derek’s more caveman style--right?

So, less brusque.

But how to do it when you’d perfected suppressing your feelings for someone else down to an artform?

"Okay, we're spend the day together. I have a few phone calls to make, but then we'll do something. Yeah?" He looked straight at Stiles who licked his lips, and it made Derek remember the boy’s nervousness. They’d have to get to know each other again.

"Alright," Stiles agreed finally, glancing over to the window, as if holding Derek's gaze became too heavy.

Derek flopped his feet over the edge of the mattress and rose, glancing down at himself. At least he'd wore underwear falling asleep last night. Flashing his naked butt at the omega might not be a good start if Derek wanted him to feel comfortable around his new alpha. Derek looked okay - he’d got enough proposals in New York to tell him that, but his omega was a whole other matter; someone completely pure when it came to anything sexual. Derek had to be careful not to show any interest of the sort, and risk scaring Stiles away with Derek’s intensity and much bigger form.

"I'm going to take a shower," he stated, scratching his hairy chest. He glanced over to Stiles, and saw his eyes were glazed over, fixed at Derek’s chest. The poor thing had probably hardly slept on the living room couch.

Derek strode out of the room and locked himself in the safe bathroom, leaning his upper back against the door. Way to flash his form to the fragile omega. Stiles might be mature enough looking, but Derek had to have at least 70 pounds of muscles on him, and Derek imagined Stiles' mind to be as innocent and pure as white snow.

He turned on the shower and stepped under the spray, immediately soaking his hair and turning his face to the faucet. He’d have to open the lock he'd put on his emotions a decade ago, or something stupid like that. His style would normally be to rip the bandage off the wound, but that wouldn't work here. Derek had to keep holding himself back, but let it out little by little, for his own and for Stiles' sake. That might be harder than to lock himself up and throw away the key like he’d done so many years ago.

He'd need lots of alone time if he wanted to come out sane in the end.

He washed his arms, soaped up his chest, and down to his cock. He hadn't touched himself much lately, since all his energy had gone to his absolute priorities and he hadn't had anything left for self-indulging. His mind hadn’t been on anything sexual either, but as he washed himself, his thoughts returned to Stiles--his omega--and to his own reactions to the boy that'd been slumbering in a forced sedation for what seemed like eternity. If he hadn't held himself back at all just now, but had taken Stiles with him into the shower - how would the boy have reacted? A jolt flared down his stomach and his cock started to fill, without him wanting it to, because Stiles would have run, too scared to trust Derek ever again.

Stiles' scent had always been appealing, even before Derek became an alpha. But now, he found the scent oozing from every pore of Stiles not merely appealing, but all-consuming. Taken to a higher level, Derek breathed in spring, trees and homemade cookies--contentment, lazy Sunday mornings, and pack. Family.

Derek fisted his soapy cock, squeezing the tip just a little bit, thinking of Stiles' perfect scent--as honey he tasted at the back of his mouth, filling his body all the way out to his fingertips. . .

He turned off the water abruptly, jerked the towel to his chest, and ripped the knob from the wall in the process.

***

Derek finally walked downstairs--his phone calls finished with tasks delegated, orders and instructions given--and found Stiles sitting on the swing out on the porch, staring out at the forest. He didn’t look forward to talking to the boy. This side of the alpha-job suited him badly, and that made him feel like a coward, something he wasn’t accustomed to. Instead he wanted to growl and man-handle Stiles. Over a decade of detaching himself from the omega--in some way or another--the hardness was bound to rub on to his real personality. It fitted him better to do something.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Stiles looked to him sharply. “Mh, sure.”

Derek jumped over the fence, and headed over for the trail into the forest behind the house--the opposite way of the clearing he’d found Stiles with Laura’s body.

“Hey, wait up!” Stiles jogged up beside him. Derek slowed down a little, and Stiles managed to keep up his pace, but Derek soon found himself walking even slower, strolling leisurely. His attention skipping from the trail ahead to their present.

Stiles picked up a stick, and hit the shrubbery they passed. “So.” Stiles threw the stick away, glancing at Derek, and he noticed that now their eyes were almost at the same height.

Not sure what to say, Derek placed the ball in Stiles' court. “What did you want to talk about?”

Stiles kicked at a small rock making it fly through the trees. “Yeah, so both Scott and Erica told me to talk to you. I mean, they seem to think we should clarify our expectations, or something?”

Derek tilted his head, studying Stiles walk beside Derek with his hands in his jeans’ pockets; his legs surprisingly long and lean. “I’ll be upfront with you,” Derek said. “You know I never learned this alpha/omega business, and I . . . I don’t know what to do with an omega. So I can’t really tell you what I expect, because I don’t know what the possibilities are.” His voice became wavering, but he trotted on, pushed himself. With being an alpha came new responsibilities, and amongst them, apparently talking to Stiles followed. “I don’t know what you need,” he added.

“Ah, yeah.” Stiles' cheeks turned hot, and Derek felt his own hand twitch to touch it, instantly drawn in. Would his skin be soft, or . . .

Stiles scratched his neck, then pulled up his jeans.

Derek frowned. Did he make Stiles nervous in general, fidgety, like earlier up in his room? It was understandable, he mused, after he’d spent a decade of ignoring the boy.

Stiles glanced over at him, his fingers in his hair now. “I guess there’s lots of little things. But mostly it’s instincts. I feel the need to do certain things, and ah . . .” He coughed. “It’s hard to hold back on it.” Stiles stopped walking, and Derek met his gaze.

“I really need for you to touch me, Derek.”

Derek felt his mouth drop. Yes, please!

He forced his gaze away from Stiles, couldn’t think clearly while watching him. He should have expected this after observing Stiles with Laura. He’d been thoughtless. But in his defence, he’d held himself back for so long around Stiles. How could he distinguish between his new alpha instincts and his old repressed desires?

He raised his hand to Stiles' upper arm--his fingers twitching--and stroked it awkwardly, feeling like an inexperienced teenager. Their brief connection sent Stiles' heartbeat skyrocketing. Derek’s own heart beat hard in his chest, and his throat felt too tight for him to breathe.

He licked his dry lips, circling his fist around Stiles' arm, watching the omega’s face for his reaction. This close, he could tell that Stiles' eyes weren’t merely brown, no--they were speckled with some gold, and his pupils were searching Derek’s.

Ah, the smell of him made Derek dizzy.

His instincts, right under the surface of his skin, screamed for him to move closer to the omega, to do what he’d wanted to from when he’d placed the exhausted bundle on Laura’s couch: make the distance between them nonexistent.

And he did just that.

He lost control of himself. His new instincts steered him, his subconscious desires, and found his hand cupping Stiles' cheek and the warmth he’d seen forming there. He caressed Stiles' skin with his thumb before he slid his fingers into the dark, wavy hair on the boy's neck, combing into it, and then the most marvelous thing happened--

Stiles leaned into his touch, sighed so deep and shivering that it’d have had to come from his very core.

His omega had accepted him. Derek knew it at the bottom of his soul.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles felt himself melt into Derek’s palm, like he had no free will whatsoever. He closed his own hand around Derek’s, his eyelids dropped of their own accord. A contentment he hadn’t experienced in forever settled inside him, something only his alpha could give him. Warmth radiated from Derek’s hand over to his skin, into his blood and spread with the beat of his pulse--reaching every cell of his body, making him feel alive and alight.

He opened his eyes and startled when he saw Derek’s green gaze flick between his own, down to his mouth and up again. Derek looked like he felt the same thing Stiles did; as if he wanted to rub himself all over Stiles--and Stiles would _let_ him.

He licked his lips, watching Derek’s eyes become dark and hungry--a highly unfamiliar look on the man--and it sent a jolt to his gut. What would Derek do? Blood rushed south in his body, down to his dick--it’d been so long now since it’d received any attention, it didn’t take much encouragement. He wanted Derek to kiss him, wanted him closer, to taste him and to let Derek taste him in return--all of him. He needed anything his alpha would give.

A low gasp escaped his mouth--

But then Derek jumped back with a startled look in his eyes, his hand on Stiles' neck jerking back as if burned. The moment they’d shared went up in the air.

He grabbed Derek’s fist, needed their connection back, but let go as soon as he saw the man’s eyes; a gaze so dark it startled him.

Derek twisted away and strode back to the house.

"What's wrong?"

Derek didn't stop, and Stiles followed, not knowing what to say or do. He swallowed the hopelessness threatening to overpower him.

With the house in sight, Derek sped up, rushed inside, and slammed the door like a slap in Stiles' face. He stared at the closed front door, trying to catch his breath and not let himself overcome by panic. He needed a clear head--because what the hell just happened?

Derek said he wanted to know what Stiles needed, and when Stiles had told parts of it, Derek reacted positively to the touching, had even seemed to enjoy it . . .  

Why did he stop?

Why did he have to reject Stiles again, like he’d done as kids? Stiles needed Derek more than ever now, and in a much more complex way.

He sank down on the porch swing, hit the cushion with his fist, and refused to shed any tears over his alpha’s ignorance. He’d always had trouble reading Derek, as closed off and aloof as the man appeared to him. It felt impossible to believe Erica’s words that, around the betas, Derek relaxed and talked casually to them. He behaved so hot and so cold, it made Stiles' head spin.

How could he live the rest of his life with a man who apparently hated him?

Frustration ripped through him. His alpha turned a cold shoulder to him while embracing the rest of the world, and Stiles refused to tolerate it! No way would he be docile and wait for Derek’s whims. That stupid, big brute, strutting around, blowing kisses at his fans while sending his omega hate and crumbs.

Stiles ripped open the door without further ado, and strode inside. He’d give the idiot a piece of his mind--he’d set Derek straight for once, damnit!

A loud thump came from above as Stiles rushed up the stairs, didn’t let himself think too much, because then he’d stop moving. The door to Laura’s bedroom stood open, wind blew from the wide open window, and Derek . . . Derek had massacred the room. All the furniture was thrown around, Laura’s personal belongings flung out the window to the backyard by the looks of it, and Derek . . .

Derek paced, wolfed out with his shoulders high and body tense.

His burning, red gaze snapped to Stiles' with his lips pulled back over his canines, snarling, his claws ripping into the bedding at hand.

Stiles swallowed his heart in his throat, gripped the door frame to prevent himself from fleeing. He’d grown up amongst a pack, and seen his fair amount of werewolf fights. And he did indeed treasure his own life, knew his own shortcomings compared to Derek’s strength. But right now he refused to back away, or run to hide.

He’d use an omega trick; one he’d never tried before, because there hadn't been a need for it. No one should say being an omega made Stiles weak. Those days where omegas rolled over and spread their legs for their alpha were over. So Stiles did what he believed to be most efficient to get Derek’s instincts attention: he stripped.

Okay, so he might be spreading his legs a little, but he didn’t do it for his alpha, he did it for himself. (And a little bit for his alpha.)

He ripped his shirt and t-shirt off in one go, and Derek snarled.

Derek snapped his teeth while Stiles kicked off his shoes.

Stiles sent his jeans flying, and the pillow in Derek’s claws disintegrated in pieces.

He slipped out of his underwear and flung it at Derek’s head, making feathers from the ripped pillows fall to the floor with it.

At last, Stiles sat his hands on his hips, challenging Derek. He smelled good to alphas and betas,  thanks to nature’s cleverness. It helped omegas survive, and consequently packs, with omega-scent smelling like the sweetest perfume.

It could actually be both a blessing and a curse. Sadly it meant omegas needed to be guarded at all times from strays or packs with dark intent in mind. Sure, Derek looked as though he had dark thoughts on his mind at the moment, but Stiles refused to be scared. Derek would have to get used to Stiles being himself:  an omega, and all the other sides of him.

“So?” He added an edge to it, pushed it a bit further, counting on his alpha’s instincts to be in place. “What’re you gonna do, huh?” He leaned forward, eyes set on Derek’s. He didn’t miss Derek’s gaze skimming over his form before he squinted, as if bracing himself for Stiles' next move.

Stiles glanced down himself, feeling a spark of embarrassment over his too skinny--and in badly shape--self. But as an omega, no one expected him to be fit for fighting; he had his alpha and a whole pack of betas to do that for him. He was only supposed to be healthy and pretty. He snorted at the ridiculousness of the last part, and slapped his hand over his mouth, looking up through his lashes.

Derek pounced.

Stiles found himself on the mattress in an instant, Derek crowding over him, his paws on Stiles' chest, claws luckily retracted. Derek’s gaze burned into Stiles', but Stiles, to his surprise, didn’t feel afraid, because behind all his alpha’s bravado, he sensed Derek’s presence. He sensed that Derek knew he had his omega under him.

Stiles shuddered. What would Derek do now that he finally gave Stiles attention? Holding Derek’s eyes, he placed his hands on the irresistible, firm chest above him, and trailed his palms over his alpha’s huge shoulders. The feel of the massive muscles--the sheer power in them--sent shivers up his back.

Stiles breathed out slowly, trying to calm down, and hide his reaction to their closeness. “Derek?” His voice shook.

For a second he thought Derek would act--his gaze was sharp--and Stiles wanted him to! But then the air seemed to blow out of him, and above Stiles, Derek shook for a moment as he switched from his wolf form to human, like ripping off a furry costume. Stiles had watched the change so many times before, and it was as natural as changing clothes. A moment Stiles had Derek’s smooth, naked skin under his palms, before the man’s face turned pained and away from Stiles. He started retreating, and Stiles panicked, because no . . .  he didn’t want to cause even more distance between them, and he had needs, alright?

“Please!” He grabbed Derek’s forearm, his thumb and middle finger barely meeting in circling the muscles. “No, please. I need you!”

Derek jerked his gaze back to Stiles', searched Stiles’ face, mouth open about to say something before he closed it with a snap.

“Please,” Stiles murmured, and led Derek’s hand down between his legs to diminish any lingering doubt about his needs. He pushed his luck, and he didn’t mean to harass Derek, but his alpha had the obvious upper hand here, physically able to free himself any moment he chose to.

He held Derek’s hand still there at the warmth between his legs and swallowed audibly, but he’d set his resolve. “You said to tell you what I need. You wanted to know what to do.” He looked down their bodies, noticed Derek do the same thing. Stiles' dick lay swollen and red against his stomach, Derek’s hand hidden behind it.

Derek gnashed his teeth. “Damnit, Stiles. I’m at the very limits of my restraint here. You’ve no idea how good you smell to me, how much I . . . but I don’t want to hurt you or do anything you don’t really want me to do.”

“But . . . “

“No!” Derek watched Stiles with a sad expression. “I’m so much stronger than you, and it’d be so easy for me to take what you’re not ready to give me. I know how little you want this--really. You might think you do at the moment, but it’s only your instincts playing you tricks.”

Frustration ripped through him. How could Derek be so far from the truth? “No, it’s not like that!” Derek shook his head, his fingers retreating from Stiles' body, but Stiles pressed them between his legs again, behind his balls. “No, please, listen to me. I know you don’t want me, I’ve known since I was a kid that you don’t like me. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me and that it’s the last thing you want, but I have to ask you to do this. Please!”

His pulse quickened further at finally having his alpha’s hand between his legs. Even if Derek didn’t want this, Stiles desperately needed some outlet. “You don’t understand! Please, can you just do it this once? I haven’t had any release for weeks and weeks, and my head is swimming.  I can’t . . . I can’t take it!”

Confusion clouded Derek’s face, and Stiles saw it, even if he himself tipped at the edge of losing it, drowned in the smell and feel of Derek.

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, his voice rough.

“What I mean?”

This time Derek swallowed with a loud click, his gaze boring into Stiles'. “Why haven’t you had any release for months? Is it because you’ve been grieving?”

And then it dawned on Stiles. There were big holes in Derek’s knowledge about the alpha/omega interdepencency, and he should have known better.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Derek had his fucking _hand_ between Stiles' naked, seemingly willing legs. The strong scent coming from his omega clouded his mind and weakened his resolve. How could he do anything else than give in to his desires when presented with such a temptation--handed to him on a silver plate?

The very smooth, soft skin between Stiles' thighs radiated a heat and smell so potent that Derek would snap from it any second now. His head spun in the trance of frustration and pent up restraint he’d been in since he run from Stiles in the forest, like he had the devil at his heels and not an actual omega angel.

It’d felt good taking it out on Laura’s things, someone he couldn’t hurt anymore. Why had his sister left him alone with all this confusion and unknown responsibilities, with a mindblowing need to take?

Stiles threw himself straight into the fire, with no sense of self-preservation whatsoever, presenting his naked body, making Derek touch him _right_ where Derek wanted to, with him already this close to snapping.

Now, Derek’s body followed one track, and it’d never been this hard holding himself back from anything. Ever.

He searched Stiles' flushed face and hooded eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? I don’t understand!” _God_! He wanted his fingers up in that warm heat, to make room for his cock. He wanted to mount his omega and _take_.

His body screamed at him to make them one.

Stiles breathed hard under him, his pupils dilated to sheer blackness, and the scent coming from him made Derek’s mouth water. “Derek,” Stiles murmured, sounding almost drunk, “I’m your omega. It’s your business to take care of me.”

Derek frowned. Sure, he knew that. What did it have to do with anything?

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before he breathed out slowly and opened his eyes again. Derek saw such softness in his gaze then that he knew Stiles cared about him at some level. “You need to get me off. At least sometimes. There’s only so much I can take.”

Derek’s mouth went dry. “You mean . . . “ he stroked his fingers between Stiles' legs, “I must give you your orgasms?”

Stiles coughed low. “Uhm, yeah, sort of.” Stiles looked so vulnerable, with no lie in his heart.

“Did Laura do that to you? My _sister_?” Oh, God! He didn’t want to think about his sister in this position, having her sisterly hands on Derek’s sexy omega. The whole thought made him shudder with nausea.

“As I grew older--you know how it is, when I started needing it, Laura . . . Uhm.”

“She . . . ?” Derek persisted. He needed to know this. What had she taken from Stiles? He’d kill her if she wasn’t already dead.

Stiles whispered, “She milked me.” His cheeks flushed dark red.

“What?” Disbelief soared through Derek, even if he knew he’d heard it right.

“Yeah. There was never anything sexual in the act between Laura and me, though, only clinical. Sure, we talked about at some point in the future we’d produce the next alpha, of course. Peter was pushing her to do it right away--as you well know, but Laura wasn't ready, and refused. We knew we’d never fight against our instincts, and we both wanted to make sure the pack-line continued, but she hoped to one day fall in love with a beta willing to be with her despite me being around. And I guess I hoped I’d too. It was a foolish dream, I know.”

Anger soared through Derek. “You can never have anyone else other than me! I’ll never allow it!”

Stiles gaped a little, and Derek realized how highly egotistical he behaved. He’d always believed that being the pack’s omega didn’t take away Stiles' free will, his choice. But Derek knew down to his very core he’d never be able to deal with anyone other than himself having Stiles. Fuck that! “You’re mine now,” he growled, dipping his face down to Stiles' throat, breathing deeply in the alluring scent. “And I don’t share!”

Stiles tilted his head to the side instinctively, giving over his throat to his alpha. “God, Derek! You’re driving me crazy here! Please!”

But Derek needed to know what his sister had actually _done_ to Stiles; who’d been there before him. He scowled. “But she still got you off?”

“Uhm, yeah, sort of,” Stiles said, his voice scratchy, and he gripped hard at Derek’s hand between his legs, keeping Derek in place, as if afraid he’d not do what his omega asked of him. “It’s so many things that’s hard to change from the old days. Our bodies don’t follow the world’s progression. And we’ve talked about this, remember? It’s all mostly instincts. Laura milked my prostate. From time to time. There shouldn’t be anything shameful about it, it’s just another bodily function.”

“I guess,” Derek admitted, turning his face away from Stiles'. Did this mean he’d be allowed to milk Stiles occasionally, but it all stopped there? Shit. Shit. Shit. He’d never force Stiles into doing anything more than he wanted, but if Stiles allowed him--even expected him to--have his fingers inside him, making him spill, he’d be the most frustrated alpha werewolf in the history of pack.

“Hey.” Stiles' voice soothed, and Derek reluctantly met his gaze again. “The two of us are not Laura and I. We need to work on being honest with each other about how we want to make us work. But right now, I really need you to milk me . . .  Or something.” Stiles looked down between them, licking his lips. “Oh, fuck.”

Derek followed Stiles' gaze, and found them both so very hard. Even with all the turmoil in his thoughts and possibly depressing future prospects, they were both completely turned on.

But Stiles didn’t want Derek. He only needed Derek to spill. He said it himself, it’d been months. Of course he had a hard-on.

“Yeah, I’ll help you.”

“Finger me?” Stiles' eyes were hooded, brown turning black, and Derek finally listened, pressing his finger against Stiles' opening. He had his attention on Stiles' face, afraid to miss any signs of pain. But the boy’s mouth fell open with a silent gasp, his wet lips slack, and all Derek saw was how turned on he was.

Without conscious thought, he’d expected Stiles' hole to be dry, like the other males he’d been with, but what he found would have made his legs give in under him if he hadn’t already been leaning over Stiles.

His finger became _wet_ , Stiles' opening ready for Derek’s . . .

His mind flew out of the window as he pressed his fingers inside the warm and moist, rubbing over the bump in there. He drank in Stiles' gasps, the keening sound igniting his instincts--fire in his veins and omega honey on his hand. He flushed all over, his sole focus on making Stiles spill and everything else fading out.

Stiles' face constricted almost immediately, gasping, “Oh! Oh! Oh!” He arched his back and within seconds, only his head and feet were in contact with the mattress, his fingers twisted in the bedding. With a shout his whole body gave in, painting white stripes up his stomach and chest, before he collapsed on the mattress, completely lax and out of breath.  

Holy shit! Derek had never in his life seen anyone climax that fast and hard. And from just fingers, from milking! Derek panted as if he’d run a marathon, his own cock ready to burst, needing inside where his fingers were still feasting. But Stiles hadn’t asked for it; he needed to be milked, nothing more. Stiles wasn’t thinking about Derek specifically, or about his body, only his obligation to make Stiles spill from time to time.

He’d become the omega’s alpha tool.

Derek shot up, wild with want. Stiles lay boneless and satisfied in front of him like an alpha buffet, smelling of omega come and natural lubricant - which Derek still had his hand covered in.

It’d have been so easy to give in to his own urges, to _take_ what he wanted, but he had to be strong; Stiles didn’t want more. Not trusting his own strength anymore, Derek staggered out in the hall, light-headed and delirious, and locked himself in the bathroom. He knocked his forehead against the door, his fist on his cock, stripping himself furiously while sucking on the fingers still covered in omega lubricant. He got a few good pulls in before he spasmed, painting the door, dripping on the floor, climaxing almost as fast as the omega had done, his ears buzzing and his vision going white.

After, he struggled to catch his breath, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. Was this how his life was going to be from now on? Constantly horny for something out of his reach, but dangled in front of his nose? He’d go insane.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

The fog in Stiles' head cleared up eventually. He trembled, alone in Laura’s room with the window still wide open, the wind blowing in on his naked form. He picked up his scattered clothes from the floor and redressed quickly, headed for his own room down the hall where he sat on his bed, staring at the walls with his pillow squished to his chest.

Guess he’d got what he wanted, huh?

Laura had done this for him, made him spill his seed from time to time, a couple of fingers up his ass, to keep him sane. Omega instincts were a funny thing that way, overwhelming around their alpha, but impossible to do anything about for themselves--that secured the omega to the alpha. New ways notwithstanding--with omega’s finally having some rights--their hormones and instincts were too slow on the uptake. His body still lived in the stone age.

He hit his thigh, reminded himself over and over, so he one day hopefully believed it: with Derek it was just the same as with Laura. Derek had done what Stiles needed him to do for him to stay sane. It had nothing to do with romantic feelings. They were just roommates driven by instincts.

From now on Stiles would make sure Derek knew what he had to for Stiles to survive, and he felt assured his new alpha would do it. Sure, he’d had to beg for it this time, but Derek could be excused, he didn’t know better.

So, how come he felt so empty? He shook his head, needed to be practical about this.

Would he bury his face in his pillow and cry his heart out because Derek fled the scene? Did he want Derek to declare his undying love for him, because Derek had had his hand between Stiles' thighs?

Nope.

He stood back up, the pillow in his lap falling to the floor. He passed the bathroom, heard the water run in there, and walked downstairs.

***

Just as Stiles finished making lunch--his stomach rumbled for the first time in weeks--Derek came down to the kitchen, luckily fully dressed. Thank fuck for small miracles.

Derek showed his typical stoic indifference, and didn’t catch Stiles' eye. He sat down at the table, his face wearing the same old stony expression, impossible for Stiles to read.

He hadn’t realized how nervous he’d been until that moment, but at what, he didn’t know. Perhaps that Derek would abandon him now that he knew some of the intimate alpha/omega issues?

It'd be so easy to feel embarrassed right now, after the intimacy he’d thrown on Derek. But no, he’d decided to follow another road. He was an omega, Derek his alpha, and they’d just have to deal with pack nature. End of story.

It was actually sort of a relief that Derek had switched right back to his old self, something familiar to Stiles. And Derek still was here, right?

He placed Derek’s food in front of him, and only then did he raise his gaze to meet Stiles', a glimpse of emotion flashing over his eyes. Stiles startled at the sadness it resembled. Did he regret helping Stiles out?

Stiles ate his tuna sandwich glancing at Derek in between bites, watching the man eat his own food in silence. After he’d swallowed his last bite, Stiles asked, “So, are you going to move into Laura’s room now?” He stacked his plate in the dishwasher and put on water to boil, reaching for his favorite mug. “You want tea as well?”

Derek swallowed his mouthful of his third sandwich. “Sure.”

Stiles shrugged, reaching for another mug.

Tea in hand, he turned to Derek, who asked tentatively, “Would you mind if I do?”

“No, it seems right that you’d have it.” Stiles swirled his spoon in the warm liquid.

“Then I want it.”

Stiles looked down in his tea, feeling Derek’s eyes on him, and continued playing with his spoon.

“So,” Derek spoke again after pushing his plate away and patting his belly, “what are the other things I’m supposed to do with you that I don’t know about?”

Stiles’ throat went dry. “Uhm.” Why did it feel so hard to talk about these things with Derek? It never used to be like that with Laura. But he and Laura had been close friends, he reflected, and Laura had always known what to do, having grown up as the alpha pup in the pack.

With Derek everything felt so new, raw, with their relationship taking a turn for the unexpected, for the unknown.

Stiles realized something else, then and there, a difference to consider: he’d never felt attraction to Laura the way he did to Derek. Laura had smelled good and felt right. She’d made him feel safe and at home.

But Derek. . . His new alpha was someone Stiles could see himself falling for even if they’d both been just ordinary betas.

Well, fuck.

***

After lunch, they cleaned up Derek’s massacre of Laura’s--no, Derek’s--room, and Stiles finally manned up to talk more about his needs from Derek. He picked up a book from the floor after his alpha singlehandedly had righted the whole shelf, and placed _The Adventures of Tom Bombadil_ beside _The Silmarillion_. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

Derek looked out from behind the closet, a hanger in his hand.

“I mean, I don’t need to be around you all the time, but I need you every day.”

Derek gaped, a hunted look in his eyes.

Stiles flushed. “No! I don’t mean you have to do _that_ every day.” _But it’d be nice_.

Derek still focused on him, seemed actually interested in what Stiles meant.

“Laura and I did everything together.” Stiles tried to explain something that had come naturally in his life up until now. “I followed her around on all her obligations around our territory, and I think that made everything easier for us. It gave us a bond strong, making it possible to have separate bedrooms; to be apart for hours at night.” He closed his eyes thinking about how hard these last weeks had been after losing Laura and Derek not giving him his essentials. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighed, and finally opened his eyes.

His gaze immediately fell on Derek who watched him, remaining silent.

Why did Derek have to be so damn sexy and have a smell so _perfect_? Did fate have it out to get to Stiles where it hurt him the most? He had to acknowledge that he’d always found Derek attractive, and now he’d received him on a silver plate, bound together for life in every way possible, only to find he had _feelings_ for the man. Feelings that would never be returned, and would be a constant torture - for forever.

He had to be practical about this, stay strong, had to follow his resolve. “I guess I don’t have to go with you everywhere if you prefer me not to, but I need to be around you a few hours each day.” He rubbed his cheek, thinking. “But then I suppose I’d have to sleep in here. Place a mattress on the floor beside your bed or something . . . “ he trailed off, not sure how to adjust to Derek’s ways, but to feel out his alpha’s limits.

Derek shut the closet, his hand lingering on the handle while he cleared his throat. “As long as I know what you require from me, I’ll try to be a better alpha for you.”

Stiles smiled faintly at him, not sure if Derek knew what he’d promised. This would have to be a complete change of their relationship, and Derek would have to let Stiles in. He found it difficult at this point to see Derek changing his personality around him overnight.

***

They finished tidying Derek’s new bedroom, cleaned the rest of his previous rampage. On the ground under the bedroom window they sorted through Laura’s personal belongings, but Derek decided to keep only her photos and school books on leadership. Stiles thought he heard Derek mutter something about wishing one of those books had been _Omegas for Dummies_.

Spending the day with his alpha, Stiles started to feel whole again, some of those dark places inside him slowly filling. In the early evening they made dinner together with chicken, whole grain barley and vegetables. Moving about the kitchen, they passed each other in between the counter, fridge and stove, and Stiles risked the chance to be even closer to Derek by occasionally brushing his hand over him. But unlike how it’d been with Laura, all those little touches, even as brief as they were, didn’t merely feel like his belly became full--no, it teased him with pieces of a gourmet meal right in front of his mouth.

Derek had always smelled good, but as Stiles' alpha, his scent had become the finest wine to the meal, and Stiles was soon unable to focus on the cooking at hand. He couldn’t blame his reaction on being close to his alpha, because with Laura he’d never been _turned on_.

Stiles looked at the counter to remember what he was chopping. A pile of zucchini and onion lay on the cutting board, but he couldn’t for the life of him recall cutting it.

He glanced sideways. Derek stared at the chicken he stirred like he'd murder it if it weren't already dead, his back straight as a pole. Stiles breath hitched, suddenly becoming aware of the smell he must emanate to his alpha. Shit! He probably stank like a whorehouse if his head clouded with lust was any indication. Hell, he felt like he’d been hard nearly all afternoon.

His heart raced so hard, it took all his willpower not to climb Derek then and there, but the knowledge that his action would be unwelcome held him back. Poor Derek had to endure this! His alpha appeared really strong, being able to stay in the same room as Stiles, to be tortured like this, and not flee for the hills.

“Jesus.” Suddenly Derek spoke with the deep, growly voice of his that went straight to Stiles' lust center.

“Whaa?” The knife slipped in Stiles' hand, his skin immediately stinging. He threw the dangerous tool into the sink, pretty sure he’d never be able to cook safely in Derek’s presence again.

Quickly, Derek grabbed Stiles' hand, twisting it to see the tiny cut the knife had made, which Stiles hardly felt over the electricity created by Derek’s touch. A blood drop seeped out ...

And then Derek sucked Stiles' finger into his mouth.

Stiles gasped, because - _Holy Fuck_!

Derek’s tongue swirled around his fingertip inside the wet warmth, and his gaze zoomed in on the man’s puckered lips; red, full and soft-looking. He couldn’t stop his mind from galloping to the image of his finger replaced by another body part of his - a part ready to combust by now.

Derek licked his tongue around Stiles' fingertip one last time before pulling it out and carefully inspected the skin. Holding his breath, Stiles watched Derek squinting his eyes, fussing over the tiny cut.

He pulled at his finger, embarrassed. “It’s no big deal.” He needed Derek’s hands off him right this minute or he feared he’d come in his pants! And retreat to his own room to have a breather, or even better, go for a walk to calm down.

Derek grunted, his grasp on Stiles' hand unrelenting, and instead turned it palm up and trailed his forefinger along the lines there as a fortuneteller would. Stiles couldn’t keep his feet still, swaying, with both of them staring at where Derek’s finger was caressing Stiles' sensitive skin.

Electric shocks flared from his hand to his dick, suddenly connected by a wire. His pulse thundered in his ears and his vision blurred, focus solely on Derek shifting Stiles' finger once more to his mouth.

Derek stuck out his tongue and caught Stiles' gaze. If the man hadn’t held him, he’d surely fall down from the sight of the eyes dark with desire. Derek’s nostrils flared and a ragged moan escaped his throat, and Stiles' feet couldn’t carry him a second longer.

Stuck in a trance, everything happened as in slow motion. Derek’s gaze held his, unrelenting, heat flared in his stomach, and then--dear god!--Derek deliberately flickered his tongue between Stiles' forefinger and long finger.

Stiles whined, unable to hold it back, and collapsed against Derek’s firm chest.

But Derek caught him in time, as though he’d been waiting for Stiles to surrender, for Stiles to fall for him, and Derek’s mouth was on his throat before he could blink. Nose pressed against his vein. Lips pressed against his artery.

“Derek!” he gasped, grinding his whole front against his alpha, like he’d wanted to do for as long as he could remember. Being pressed so close together, he felt the full body shudder that ripped through Derek at Stiles' ministration.

“Tell me what you need,” Derek grunted against his skin. “I’ll do anything, whatever you want, you’ll have it.” Derek’s words took a second to reach Stiles' mind. How could he make sense out of anything else than the feel of his alpha against him?

He needed them as close as possible, right this second, and he opened his mouth to say so.

The front door slammed, and Boyd yelled, “Oh shit, why does it smell like burned meat in here?”

Stiles jumped backwards, hit his elbow against the counter. Smoke from the frying pan filled the kitchen, stinging in his eyes. He opened the window as far as it went, and Derek threw the pan in the sink, filling it with water that immediately sputtered.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Boyd leaned against the doorframe, his face concerned and gaze flickering from Stiles to their alpha.

Derek had his back to them, scrubbing the stupid pan as if his life depended on it being clean.

“Nothing,” Stiles sighed, opening the freezer and took out three frozen pizzas. “Nothing at all.” He swallowed hard down the thickness in his throat.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

After a tasteless dinner, Boyd put on a tv-show in the living room. Derek didn’t refuse, even though he knew the show sucked. He couldn’t care less about what happened around him at the moment, too preoccupied with his own failure.

He’d nearly started a fire in his own house, with Stiles in the same room, without noticing at all!

He, the alpha, the master of the house, almost killed his own omega just because Stiles smelled like he wanted to have sex with Derek, not just a finger to milk him, but to go all the way. All Derek could think about was himself buried deep in his omega, with wave after wave of seeds pumping out of his cock and Stiles unable to squirm away, but held in place by Derek’s knot. He’d fantasised about the lump at the base of his cock swelling up, trapping Stiles right where his instincts told him his omega should be.

He couldn't bear it, being an alpha with so little self-insight and restraint that he himself became a threat to his omega.

All those nights lately where he’d sent the guards home, thinking he was alpha enough to look after Stiles alone . . .  Anyone could have walked right into the house, and just taken Stiles.

No, he’d known from the start he’d be a failure at this alpha shit, that he'd never measure up to his ancestors, no matter how hard he tried. He might be surrounded by a support system with betas, advisors, and council. Basically any resource in his territory was at his disposal. But Derek, as the leader of it all, failed to protect Stiles, no matter what kind of help he had.

He didn’t know _anything_ about how to be an alpha, lead a pack, rule a fucking territory, and take care of an omega. He should take off and never return--they’d be better off without him.

He rose, strode out to the hall, and slammed the front door shut without stopping to answer Boyd’s questions about when he’d come back, or if Boyd should stay the night. His beta knew how to do his job without Derek’s meddling. No matter, no one should ever trust Derek’s judgement again.

He changed in the air, his clothes tearing to pieces, raced for the forest, and pushed himself to his very limit straight away.

***

In the middle of the night, Derek opened the front door to a quiet house, his thoughts slowed down by pure exhaustion. He found Boyd doing his exercise routine in the living room, acknowledging his alpha with a nod as Derek passed, unreadable eyes taking in Derek’s sweaty form. He raced upstairs, and Boyd didn’t call after him, had self-preservation, luckily.

He collapsed on top of his comforter, but even in his drained state, he ended up tossing and turning all night and got up at the break of dawn, sweating and feeling on edge. He headed to the Territory Council, arrived before anyone else, irritated, angry and feverish, and he knew from the moment he stepped inside that this would be a day from hell.

It turned out to be his least productive day as an alpha so far. He should just had taken a shift guarding their perimeter instead. Eventually everyone left him alone, good riddance, and he couldn’t care less if they feared him at that moment. He slammed his laptop closed to go for yet another run, but his phone called and he growled into it, ready to _kill_.

“Derek?” Isaac sounded breathless.

“Yes!” Derek shouted. Fuck, if he just got some peace today, it’d make everyone’s life so much easier.

“There’s something going on here at the house, and I have no idea what to do!”

Derek sprang up, instantly alert, the chair falling to the floor and the table tipping. “Is it the omega?” He ran to his truck.

“Yes!” Isaac cried, “He’s sick in your room, and there’s a smell I don’t recognize.”

Derek turned on the ignition. “You haven’t left him alone at the house?” he yelled, his blood thundering.

“Oh no, I’m here! Out on the porch.”

“I’m on my way.” Derek slammed the gear in reverse, ready to murder anyone that threatened his path.

***

Derek hit the brakes in front of the garage, gravel spraying, and ripped the truck door open. His heart galloped in his chest, and the fever he’d felt all day peaked.

Isaac ran towards him, his eyes wide, desperate. Relief marred his face, and Derek thought Isaac would fling himself at him, but stopped himself in time, probably noticing Derek’s thunderous expression.

Derek pushed past his beta and ripped the door open, feeling his instincts howling, sizzling under the surface.

Isaac had been right -  a strong smell filled the house, something Derek had never come across before. It called on his instincts like nothing else, snarled him into its web, yanking him towards the stairs and taking control of his body without meeting the slightest resistance.

Before he could blink, he stumbled on the top step, his feet wobbly as if they tried carrying his weight for the first time. Some kind of magic spell made it impossible for him to think rationally, calling to his instincts and ruling his motions. The fever he’d felt all night and day turned into a full on fire, and only one thing could extinguish the flames.

He needed his omega-- _now_!

Falling to his bedroom door, he managed to turn the handle, and he found himself by the bed gaping at the form in the middle of the bed. Stiles lay there on his stomach, completely naked with his hips helplessly rutting against Derek’s pillow, presenting his bottom to his alpha.

“Fuuuck!” Stiles slurred without turning to see who’d come inside the room. “Fucking finally, you bastard!”

Derek stared at Stiles, his mouth watering from the scent coming from the core of the creature. He had to be dreaming, because his deepest fantasy . . .  

This was too good to be true.

“Don’t you just stand there!” Stiles whined, hips stuttering and hand fumbling between his legs, and Derek actually drooled down his chin. Stiles' usually baggy clothes hid a sinewy, lithe frame with toned muscles and perfectly shaped back.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Derek breathed before sinking to his knees, completely unable to stop himself. He crawled over Stiles' long, firm legs, and pressed his nose right to Stiles' butt, inhaling as deep as the first breath he took in life. “Oh my god!” he groaned. “What’ve I done to deserve this?”

He buried his nose between Stiles' round cheeks, making the omega cry out and grab the back of Derek’s head, pressing Derek’s face as close as possible against his butt. “This has to be heat,” Stiles panted, “because I need you inside me like yesterday! Damnit, you fucking idiot alpha! I’m going to kill you if you don’t immediately mount me right this second, you goddamnit . . . ”

Stiles pushed his butt further up, and something wet met Derek’s face, and he might have blacked out a little from sensory overload. He puckered his lips and sucked as if his life depended on it, Stiles' natural lubricant smearing all over his face. Derek couldn’t get enough.

Stiles shuddered a whole body-shudder, and he groaned into the mattress. His opening seemed to react to his alpha’s attention and spasmed, rushes of fluids appearing. Derek lapped it all and stroked his tongue over the sensitive area, circling over the hole even though it’d been completely ready for Derek before he entered the room.

“Damnit, Stiles, you taste so good!” Derek ripped open the zipper of his own pants with one hand, the other pressed firmly at the small off Stiles' back, holding him in place. Stiles keened, tried to rub his opening against Derek’s face, seeking whatever friction possible, desperate. ”How long have you been like this?”

Stiles' fists ripped at the sheets, sweat covered his whole body, his skin flushing in the most delicious way. “I woke up like this, you fuck! Now would you just fill me up with your seed and knot me after, and we can get this over with!”

Derek would have backed away if possible at Stiles' words, but as it were, his instincts had taken control and forced him to whip out his cock and push his pants to his ankles. He spread Stiles' thighs, making room for his own knees in between. He’d have prefered to have Stiles on his back for this, to be able to watch his facial expressions while Derek took his virginity. But he had no time and neither of them had a say in the matter. He’d dreamed about taking his time, of savoring them coming together and making it as pleasant as possible for them both. He wanted them to make love, not rut like animals. But Stiles didn’t really want him; instincts cried and controlled his omega’s body.

Derek needed to get this over with as soon as possible for both of their sakes. He steered his rock-hard cock with shaking hands into the ripe opening, easily sinking deep, all the way inside, lubricant seeping out. Gasping, he became enveloped by the warm and wet, sleek place, squeezing tight around his cock. Pushing into a guy had never felt this good ever before.

Stiles whined high in his throat, writhed in with what Derek would normally have read as pleasure, but in reality it was Stiles' instincts telling his body that his alpha finally filled him up in the right place, the key to their pack’s future.

They let nature do its work, to ensure the existence of the pack by securing it an alpha pup.

_Why had Stiles' heat come now_? Yet another thing he knew nothing about, one of those alpha/omega secrets he’d probably never completely comprehend.

But right now, only making him spill his seeds mattered, for his knot to swell to keep his omega in place, making sure his seeds did its purpose. He watched his cock move in and out of that tight, red opening, glistening with juices, starting to look swollen from the rough friction. This had to be heaven for the physical part of his being.

“More, Derek!” Stiles gasped, whined and pleaded. “Faster! Harder, please!”

He grabbed Stiles' shoulder to get better leverage, his hips pistoning and smacking against Stiles' tight butt, and that seemed to do the trick. The whole bed rattled against the wall, a picture crashed to the floor.

“Ah! Fuck!” Stiles climaxed around Derek’s cock, shaking and tightening his muscles with a prolonged whine, his hole milking Derek’s length.

Derek groaned, fucked Stiles through his shaking, and more lubricant seeped out, making squelching noises in the room. The smell of Stiles' orgasm drew Derek under. He was unable to take it easy on the omega, and the usually hidden knot at the base of his cock surged. Powerless to stop, he pressed it inside the tight opening before it hooked, and Stiles mewled at the sudden intrusion. Derek came, his orgasm ripped out of him, roaring as never before, his alpha seeds pumping out, instantly shooting towards its target. Wave after wave rippled through him as he rolled his hips, filling up his omega to the brink, his knot plugging it all inside. In the end, he fell over Stiles, exhausted, curling them to the side before he squashed the smaller form under his alpha muscles, and rubbed his omega’s sweaty skin.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Stiles slowly came through curled up in Derek’s bed. The haze that had clouded his mind since last night cleared little by little, and his senses started sending his brain other signals than the all-consuming need for his alpha’s knot. He felt like he’d been sedated by heavy drugs, and he supposed he had, with all the omega hormones nature had equipped him with, causing this.

The sheets stuck to his skin, and he squirmed, feeling sweaty and hot, but then his butt throbbed, and he reflexively touched the sore part, gasping.

“Don’t move!”

Derek lay behind him with Derek’s cock still knotted inside him. He gasped, his heart instantly racing. The knot trapped him, held him in place like a hook, and he had to break free! His body jerked away on its own accord, and pain flared through him from where they were connected.

"I said, don't move!" Derek commanded, folding his strong arms firmly around Stiles and holding him tight once more. Derek started humming, a rumble deep in his chest, a sound that spoke straight to Stiles' omega instincts, slowing his frantic pulse and made him melt into his alpha. Derek stroked over Stiles' stomach, up to his chest, firm and tight, safe and secure. "That's it," Derek murmured against Stiles' ear. "You're safe with me. Nothing's gonna harm you. Don't worry, your alpha's here."

Stiles dozed off again, lulled into a new wave of sedation by his instincts reacting perfectly to his alpha.

***

He opened his eyes, saw the room had long shadows. He lay in Derek’s arms. "What happened?" he croaked.

"You were in heat, remember?" Derek's low mumbling by his ear sent shivers down his side. Stiles moved his hips a fraction, and instantly Derek hissed, tightening his arms around Stiles. "I'm still in you, and I'll hurt you even more if you move."

Oh! Derek had hurt him? He couldn't remember being hurt in another way than the burning sensation of not being filled by his alpha's knot, feeling empty.

Derek trailed his fingers down Stiles' back and around where they were connected. Stiles gasped, feeling his alpha’s fingers circling around his stretched rim muscle, sending currents all through his body. He must be strained to the very limit, but still numb, because he didn’t feel sore at all - just very full.

He lifted his leg, giving Derek better access. "How does it feel?" he wondered, breathless.

Derek moaned in his ear. "Damn it. You're asking me how it feels after I forced my whole knot inside you? It feels really good."

"Yeah?" Stiles gasped, pleasantly surprised. If Derek liked it, perhaps they'd do this again. Okay, so he'd prefer to be mentally present for it next time, to get the full experience, but until today he'd thought he might not get to have sex--ever!

"Mh hm," Derek confirmed, "fuck, yeah." Derek continued to feel around with his cock inside of Stiles' opening, like it fascinated him. "How hurt are you?" The hand stilled as Derek held his breath.

"I'm alright, I think. I need to move around a bit to be sure, but I feel okay."

Derek breathed out.

Stiles arched his back, pushing his hips a fraction towards Derek.

"God! Don't do that!" Derek gasped, but contradicted himself by trusting against Stiles' butt.

Stiles own dick jolted, a spark that easily could become a fire if they continued moving. Hell, he seemed to be a sucker for punishment; wanting more after having that huge thing pushed inside where nothing more than fingers had been before. He searched his own front and found his dick flaccid and spent between his thighs, and he smiled faintly.

His stomach growled.

Derek chuckled, his fingertips stroking lightly up Stiles' side, goosebumps appearing in its trail. "Hungry?"

Stiles groaned, and stopped himself from saying something cheesy like he felt hungry for two different things. "I haven't eaten anything since the pizza we had yesterday evening."

"What? Didn't Isaac look after you at all today?"

Stiles tried to shrug. He hadn’t been in a place to think about food all day. He didn’t remember any hunger except for the burn for Derek’s knot.

Derek placed his hand over Stiles' ear. "Isaac! Get us some food!" he called out.

Stiles grinned. "Calling room service?" The heat hormones must still be in his blood, making him feel high, because he felt so good, happy even.

"Damn right, I am. It's the least he can do after neglecting you all day!"

"Well, technically, my problem was you not giving me attention."

“Mm mm,” came the noncommittal hum behind him.

Isaac tapped on the door a little while later. “Room service,” he called from behind it, and Stiles heard the snicker at the end.

Derek wiggled about behind him. “One second.” Derek’s cock slipped out from inside Stiles. How long had he been able to do that?

A tray passed into Derek’s hands through the opening of the door, and Stiles heard mumbling. Derek kicked the door shut with his foot before striding over to set it on the night stand.

The whole time, Stiles tried not to stare at Derek’s glorious naked form, reminding himself that Derek had his reasons for rarely letting Stiles see him naked before. But how could he not stare?

Stiles' mouth went dry watching him, with all hard muscles in a perfect shape over his gorgeous skin: his long legs helped him take down any animal of his choosing, the strength in his arms and chest protected Stiles from any threat, and his cock. . . well, it matched the rest of his body completely. Stiles knew now for a fact that it had knotted him so well, knew Derek’s physique was highly capable. But he could never forget the most important side of his alpha.

The intellectual part: willingness to do this when not under a force of nature--consent.

“What’s wrong."

Not a question, but a command to tell.

Stiles breathed out, feeling suddenly sober. “Nothing,” he mumbled, and his stomach growled again. He rose. “I need to wash my hands before I eat.”

Derek pushed him back against the pillows again. “Here.” He handed him a wet wipe from the tray.

Stiles took it and used the minute to collect his thoughts, then smiled at Derek. He didn’t want to screw this up.

Derek's expression quickly turned from worried, to surprised, to tentative. He smiled hesitantly back, lips barely parted and gaze searching--his face so far from the stony, hard look Stiles usually saw that he felt it tug at his heart. He reached out, without thinking too much about it, and grabbed Derek's hand, stroking the palm with his thumb. Derek looked at their joined hands, then to Stiles' eyes again, and this time Stiles grinned, feeling completely content.

Derek's eyes widened, his green irises impossibly clear, so much more expressive than Stiles could ever remember seeing. Derek coughed. "Did I . . . ," he trailed off, before letting Stiles' gaze go, studying their hands again.

"What?" Stiles asked softly.

Derek didn't meet his gaze, mumbling, "So, how sore are you?"

Stiles wiggled his butt. "It doesn't feel too bad."'

Derek sighed deeply--in relief? Huh!

"Does it really matter?"

Derek finally met Stiles' eyes. "Of course it matters!"

"Because you're afraid I won’t do it again if I’m hurt?" Stiles scoffed. "You can just relax. I promise you that I'd never be able to stop us from doing this again. The heat's making sure of that!"

Derek watched Stiles' face, with a pleading look on his own. "I'm so sorry you don't have the choice to say no. I hate that this is being held over your head and I wish there was something I could've done to stop it ..." he trailed off, sounding helpless.

Stiles felt helpless too, because he couldn't exactly tell Derek the truth: he'd never in a million years say no to the man. If Derek offered, Stiles would climb him immediately. Nature had forced Derek to knot him; he’d neither had a choice.

"If we just knew what triggered the heat," Derek said, "we could prevent it from happening again, and I promise to never have sex with you ever again."

Fuck! This switched straight into a nightmare! _But I want you_! Stiles wanted to scream. He wanted to jump up and sit in Derek’s lap, to kiss his full lips, to grind against him and do all kinds of filthy things. If only . . .

He had to tell Derek what he obviously had no idea about. "It's you that trigger the heat, Derek." He slumped back against the headboard, feeling defeated. Now he'd make his alpha flee.

"Me?" Derek frowned. "But I haven't done anything. I don't understand."

"You don't have to actually _do_ anything. You just have to want an alpha offspring and then be around me long enough to rub your hormones all over me."

Derek's face turned crimson. With embarrassment?

Stiles watched Derek struggle with himself. And he couldn't look away.

Finally Derek opened his mouth with his jaw set. "Since staying away from you isn't an option, I can't see any way around this. I certainly didn't intend to trigger your heat, and I had no idea I could. But you're the expert here, so I guess I just have to accept that somewhere deep down, I want an alpha pup now."

Stiles gave him a curt nod. He easily understood that Derek wanted an heir, as a new alpha, with a pack turned upside down recently, and his last family members lost. Stiles should’ve foreseen his alpha’s need for expansion.

"Hey," he said softly, afraid to disappoint the man. "You know it probably won't be a pup now, right? Even if you knotted me, these things take time."

Derek breathed out. “Okay. That’s good because, honestly, I need that time. Being an alpha is overwhelming as it is."

Stiles' heart ached and he reached out, touching Derek's hand, opening his mouth without thinking, almost saying what he burned to, but luckily caught himself in time, shutting it with a snap. Phew! That was a close call. If he'd told Derek he loved him, then he feared the tentative openness Derek showed him--their weak house of cards--would fall to pieces and fly away in the wind. He wasn’t sure he could bear it if Derek closed up again and pushed him away like he did once.

"Okay." Derek pulled the tray over to Stiles' lap. "Good talk."

Stiles sent him a wry smile, reaching for his glass of juice. “I guess so, if you’re the type to enjoy a rollercoaster.” He kind of said it as a joke, but from the look on Derek’s face, it’d hit him. Stiles sat his empty glass down, afraid to say anything more.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

The evening came and Kira arrived for her night shift. Derek nodded at her, continuing to stroke Stiles' hair where his omega lay in his lap.

"Hey guys," she said, casting a glance at the unusual scene. She didn't comment, but immediately turned her attention to her katana. She took out strong-smelling ointment and started rubbing it over the blade, her hand moving in practiced circles.

"Have you eaten?" Stiles mumbled, sounding half asleep. Derek combed his fingers through Stiles' dark strands--he'd never felt this content in all his life.

Kira nodded, dipping her rag in the ointment.

"I'm calling a pack meeting tomorrow morning," Derek said. "There'll be a few changes to the guarding of the omega."

Kira's eyes flickered to Stiles and back to her weapon. "Fair enough."

"Yes, it's fair," Derek stated. "We're going back to having two guards on duty at all times." He felt Stiles tense, but carried on; he couldn't let Stiles' opinion on this concern him. "I've already made a mistake as an alpha, and I'll be the first to admit it, since it involves the safety of our omega."

Stiles scrambled upright, his gaze hard. Derek ignored him for now. He’d do everything in his power to protect Stiles, to make sure no harm came to him. "There'll be two guards. I don't want to risk anyone being too tired to give our omega the utmost attention."

"But this is a step back," Stiles said. "It's years and years since the omega had two guards! Are you going to make them wear uniform or be in wolf form as well? Helmets and weapons?"

Derek saw his omega hated this change, but it couldn't be helped. "This is final, Stiles. It's not a step back in any form. The world never stands still, and there'll always be change. The strongest packs are the flexible ones with an open-minded and creative alpha. There's so many dangers out there, threats to the pack, our territory, but mostly to you."

He kept Stiles' gaze firm. Even if Derek had the last word, a cooperative omega would make him the safest. "Everyone knows that if you want to take over a pack and their territory, capturing the omega is the way to go."

"I know all this!" Stiles groaned. "What I'm saying is we've managed with one guard for years without any incidents, so why change it now?"

Derek stared hard at Stiles who gripped at his own hair. "What do you think?" Derek asked low.

"But the murder wasn't directed at me!"

"It sort of was, Stiles! But let me tell you that every pack that is on the lookout for expansion of their territory or to obtain an omega knows what's happened here. Our loss is common knowledge and it makes us vulnerable."

Derek could never be alone with Stiles ever again, didn’t trust himself around Stiles after the kitchen incident. Even himself and one guard felt too risky. But he couldn't tell Stiles why, not without having to explain how distracted Stiles made him.

Stiles sighed, looked away.

Derek continued. “As I said, changes are inevitable, and right now you’ll have two guards at all times."

"When I’m inside the house as well?" Stiles' face snapped to his, a horrified expression on it. What made him so worried? Derek did it for his safety!

“Here they don't have to be inside the same room as you."

Stiles' shoulders sagged.

"Why are you not accepting this?" Derek demanded. "I'm the alpha and what I say goes."

Stiles clenched his teeth. "But the pack will have no life! If two are with me, and with all their other responsibilities, they’ll have no time with their families."

Kira piped up. "The pack's our family."

"You know what I mean."

Derek scowled. The pack meant everything, and he’d never questioned something so deeply engraved in his instincts. He'd always thought Stiles felt the same way. "You should drop it now, omega," he growled, anger starting to form in his stomach.

"Fine!" Stiles cried, jumped up and stormed upstairs.

Derek took deep breaths, held himself back for a moment. Stiles needed some space, and air enough to breathe. The omega needed to be sheltered, but he’d always treasured the little freedom he got, Derek knew that.

He glanced at Kira, who studiously concentrated on polishing her katana. "I'm going to bed," he stated and marched upstairs to the bathroom. He managed not to slam the door.

***

Outside his bedroom he stopped, surprised to sense Stiles in there. He'd expected him to go to his own room after their fight.

The boy stood staring out of the window, sleep pants low on his slim hips and a t-shirt snuggled around his sinewy shoulders. Derek swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Still, remains of Stiles' heat-smell lingered in the room, and if Derek hadn't been prepared to hold himself back before entering, he'd have jumped Stiles by now.

He closed the door and leaned against it for a second, taking in Stiles' rigid posture. Even if Derek held himself back, his cock had a life on its own. He adjusted himself in his sleep pants. Did Stiles want to continue their argument? He opened his mouth. And closed it. Readjusted his hard-on once more, hating how revealing his sleep pants were, didn’t want to scare the omega away.

Stiles turned around, giving Derek a curt nod, before he bent and pulled out a mattress from under Derek's bed.

Derek gaped. That's right, he'd forgotten Stiles needed him close at night since they wouldn’t spend all day together. Stiles planned to sleep in here, only sleep.

Derek opened the window, pulled the curtains closed. He needed to get used to having Stiles around, and work hard to build up his defences against this alpha level impulses. He had years and years of practice as a beta of ignoring the omega, but now he needed to be much stronger.

Stiles lay down on his mattress on the floor, turning his back to Derek. He climbed under his own fresh covers, feeling cocooned in the smell of Stiles' heat. Fuck! How could he calm down enough to fall asleep with their previous sex still lingering heavy in the air, and with Stiles beside him? Stiles wasn't exactly available to him, to grab a hold of whenever his urges got the better of him, like alphas still thinking they lived in the old days still did with their omegas.

Sleep wouldn't come easily tonight.

He sighed deep, slumping over on his back, trying to block out Stiles' breathing right beside him as if they were sharing his bed like earlier today. He'd fucked Stiles, knotted him.

Derek stroked over his chest and slipped his hand under the waistband, gripping his rock hard cock and giving it a tight squeeze. He nearly gasped at how good it felt, and his mind studiously wandered to how warm and wet Stiles' had been, his moaning, pleading and then coming on Derek’s cock. Even if he barely managed to not attack his poor omega now, his hard-on became impossible to ignore lying in the smell of _them_. He bit his cheek, hard, to keep his sounds down, to not scare Stiles, but his breathing became labored and he couldn't keep his hand still on his cock--it felt too good rubbing it.

A low whimper came from the room, and at first Derek thought it came from himself, but then he heard it again. Stiles. Whimpering.

Derek fell over to his side, peering down at the blanket burrito. "Hey. You alright?"

“Fuck,” Stiles grunted into his pillow.

“What’s the matter?” Derek instantly forgot his own hard-on, worry washing over him. He reached down and pulled at the blanket covering Stiles' face, but Stiles rolled over on his stomach, covering himself completely.

Derek sighed frustrated, flopping over to his back again. He’d never really know Stiles, get him to open up and _talk_ to him. He lay still, wallowing in his thoughts. Stiles whimpered again. Derek sat up. “Seriously, Stiles. Tell me.”

"I hate you!"

Derek huffed, falling back. "Because I say you’ll have two guards instead of one?"

"Nooo," Stiles groaned from the floor. "Because I know you're right, and I don't like it."

"You don't like that I'm right? You always want to be right?"

“No, moron!”

Stiles didn’t say more, but Derek waited, his cock as hard as ever, pulsing and impossible to ignore lying in the smell of _them_. He closed his eyes, breathed through his mouth.

“We’ll never be alone,” Stiles whispered, and Derek jerked up.

“What?”

Stiles cleared his voice. “How can we ever be alone if I’ll always have two guards?”

Stunned, Derek struggled to understand. “You _want_ to be alone with me?” It appeared as Stiles found it easier to open up in the dark, or perhaps his tiredness broke down his walls.

He heard Stiles swallow. “Mm, yeah.”

“Why?” Derek demanded, because why would _the omega_ want to be alone with him? He

thought Stiles resented him after the way Derek had treated him the last decade. And wouldn’t Stiles be scared of him, fear Derek in his obvious physical upper hand? Especially now that he knew how his knot felt like. Ouch!

“Oh, you know …” Stiles trailed off.

“No, I don’t.”

Stiles whispered, “They’ll hear us. You know . . . when you help me out.”

Derek barked out a laugh. “Oh god, you can’t be serious?”

“Yeah, I am!” Stiles sat up, facing Derek. In the darkness Derek still saw Stiles as clear as day, with his hair ruffled and stuck up in every direction. Derek had never seen a better look on him.

“Stiles, it’s nothing to hide! Sex is a natural thing and everyone knows we all have it. The fact that an alpha and omega can’t be intimate without some of the betas hearing it, just heightens their respect for you. They know how strong you are and how different your life is to any ordinary beta’s. You’re the backbone of the pack, and all of us would do anything to make you feel safe and cherished.”

“I was talking about you,” Stiles said low, dipping his head.

“What about me?” Derek frowned. Stiles couldn’t possibly think he’d get to have sex with anyone else than Derek--and that Derek would listen to it? “What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Stiles whispered.

“What should I be embarrassed about?”

“You know . . . about milking me. And fucking me when I’m in heat.”

Derek snorted at the ridiculousness in Stiles' reasoning. “You think I’m embarrassed?”

“Yeah, or perhaps not embarrassed, but I mean doing these things with me isn’t something you want to do, right? It’s me we’re speaking of here, and you hate me.”

Stunned, Derek became speechless. Fuck! Stiles couldn’t be further from the truth.

Stiles shot up from his mattress, and strode over the floor, back and forth. “I know very well you don’t want me, and if it weren’t for your instincts, you’d never chose to do these things to me.”

Finally Derek found his voice. “I don’t hate you.”

“Ha!” Stiles snorted. “Don’t lie to me. I know you can’t stand to be around me. It’s just your instincts telling you to be here.”

Okay, Derek thought. The time had come to explain his past behavior. Stiles deserved to know the truth. Derek could handle his rejection. Perhaps. Possibly. He didn’t need to hide his feelings anymore; there was no other alpha to kill him for having feelings for the omega. He wouldn’t be the first alpha in history to be in love with his omega, with all the time they’d spend together, and, as he’d recently learned, the orgasms the alpha gave the omega, and not least, heats shared. Through history, more alpha/omega couples had probably existed than alpha/beta couples with the omega on the side to produce the alpha pup. Even if Stiles never returned his feelings, Derek wouldn’t allow him to be with someone else, no matter his previous resolve.

Worst case scenario: they'd live a life together with Derek’s feelings unreturned, and Stiles pitying him. Derek finally realized he’d find a way to live with that. No matter what, he’d never let Stiles leave him.

“Fine!” Stiles hit a pillow at Derek’s head. He’d obviously taken too long to answer, wrapped up in his own head. Fuck! He’d never get a handle on this talking shit! Hands on his hips, Stiles stared furious at Derek. “You’re such a big jerk!”

Stiles' angry, flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes did nothing to soften a pulse of excitement rush through Derek. He sucked in a breath. “Uhm.” He tried to give a sensible answer, but logic slipped away and only fierce kissing came to mind, and his cock jerked against his stomach.

“What!” Stiles spat.

Derek wanted to grab him. He licked his lips, and Stiles' gaze zoomed in on the movement, and Derek saw understanding dawning on him. It seemed to put fuel to Stiles' fire, because he shot forward, pushing Derek forcefully to his back. For a second Derek became too stunned to prevent it, and then Stiles pinned Derek’s arms above his head, sitting on top of him, and he didn’t want to shake Stiles off at all.

He held his breath. Any moment now, Stiles would feel his hard-on.

Stiles glowered, his face inches above Derek’s, and god damn it, he’d never seen him more beautiful. Stiles ground his hips. Derek’s cock jerked, and Stiles gasped, “Fuck!”

Derek moaned, planting his feet on the mattress and bucking against Stiles, feeling delirious with want. His blood rushed in his arteries with Stiles' smell all over him.

“You think you get to fuck me again?” Stiles growled, his breath washing over Derek’s face, and Derek couldn’t find his words, just bucked again, seeking any friction. “I don’t think so! You hate me, this is just your bloody instincts!” Stiles let go of Derek’s wrists and reached behind his back gripping Derek’s cock covered in sleeping pants. “Fuck, you’re so hard!”

“No shit!” Derek gasped at having Stiles' hand on him, down there. His fantasy came to life. “It’s you,” he breathed, “you’re driving me crazy!”

Stiles' hand stilled, with its grip on Derek, and Derek snapped open his eyes. When had he closed them?

Stiles stared at him, his gaze as dark as the night, flicking between Derek’s eyes. “I’m driving _you_ crazy? I can’t keep my hands off you, alpha. The way you smell,” Stiles took a deep sniff over Derek’s neck, making Derek groan deep in his chest. Stiles stroked his palms over Derek’s chest. “The way you feel under my hands.” Derek bucked against him, biting his lip. He refused to let the threatening plead at his tongue escape.

He was the alpha here!

“Derek,” Stiles whispered, and Derek locked their gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” He could only jerk his head. Stiles closed the space between them, and Derek shut his eyes. Stiles' nose brushed against his own, on one side and then on the other, their hot breaths mingling and Stiles' sweet smell washing over him.

"Do it," Derek whispered, and then finally he felt Stiles' lips on his own; a soft brush to the side before Stiles' tongue licked between his lips carefully, hesitant. Was this Stiles first kiss? Groaning, Derek opened his mouth and gave back enthusiastically; he’d show Stiles how to kiss, god damnit! A whimper escaped Stiles before he plunged in and they made out in a frenzy.

Stiles gripped at Derek's t-shirt, pushing his hands under the fabric and stroking over the skin greedily, making Derek burn. Stiles made these tiny pleading noises in his throat, and Derek rumbled low.

Stiles kissed rough and angry, but it quickly became the best kiss Derek ever had. "Fuck, I want you!"

Stiles raised his head a fraction, his gaze clouded over and eyelids hooded with lust. "Yeah?"

Derek nodded, bucking his hips.

Stiles reached behind his back again and gripped Derek’s rock hard cock, muttering, "I wanna see your face when you come. I bet you look so fucking hot."

"Shit!" Derek groaned; this whole thing one of the most intense experiences in his life.

"Yeah?" Stiles urged, "I wanna feel your come on my hand. Soon I want to taste it, and suck your cock while you watch me do it. I’ve never done it before and I want to try it."

"Holy shit!" Derek felt his orgasm hit him with surprising force and speed, hips bucking and his back arching. "Stiles!"

Slowly, he came through, and kicked off his sleep pants with his rapidly cooling fluids. He opened his eyes to Stiles' flushed face, panting as if he’d run a marathon. Derek flipped them over. Lying half over Stiles, he buried his face in Stiles' neck and gripped his omega’s dick, instantly moving his hand up and down.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s head, gasping like he was already at the brink of climax. Derek set a steady pace, jacking him over his sleeping pants, like Stiles had done to him, not touching skin. He tilted his head, reaching for Stiles' lips, kissing him deeply and all-consumingly, feeling him tense. Warm wetness spread under Derek’s hand as Stiles shuddered and spasmed.

Lying still for a second, impossibly close, he pushed his hand under Stiles' t-shirt and stroked over the firm planes, watching Stiles' face. "Were you jerking off too?" He gestured with his head to the mattress on the floor.

Stiles shook his head. “I’ve told you it doesn’t work the same way for omegas as it does for alphas and the betas. We’re weird like that. I need you to get off."

Oh, yes, how could Derek have forgotten that, even for a moment?

"I was so turned on, though,” Stiles admitted. “It still smelled of us in here, of sex, and then I could hear what you were doing. It got me so hard, thinking about you fucking me earlier."

"Shit! Really?"

"Uh huh."

Relief washed over him. "That’s good. I thought I’d hurt you and that you hated it. Hated me."

Stiles grabbed Derek's upper arm. "I remember it hurt when you pushed your knot in me, but ..." Stiles breathed out. "I liked it. All of it."

Derek frowned. "You were in heat. It wasn't really you."

"Then it wasn't really you either."

They stared at each other before Stiles huffed, "Fine!" He got up on his elbow, but Derek held him down. "Stay here. Don't lie down there. Stay with me." He couldn’t bear not having Stiles close, in his arms.

Stiles huffed again, but didn't make any more moves. Derek arranged them side by side, grabbed the pillow from the floor and placed it under Stiles' head, but pulled his own covers over them both. It felt so good to have his omega beside him. No crises, no heat, just the two of them having close contact. His instincts crooned right under his skin like his omega petted his wolf, and Derek felt it deep in his gut. A content purr slipped out from his lips.

Stiles sighed contently, crawling even closer.

Derek stroked his hair. "G'night."

"Mm mm," Stiles mumbled, sounding half asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Morning came with Stiles rolling out of his alpha’s warm bed and getting a whiff of coffee on his way to the bathroom. Shaking out his legs a little while he brushed his teeth, he hardly felt any soreness at all from yesterday. In fact, he felt rested and ready for the day.

Downstairs, Boyd waited for him by the kitchen table with a stack of pancakes. Stiles grinned; Boyd was his new favorite. After eating, he let himself getting talked into a morning run with the beta, that ended with Stiles needing another shower while Boyd was as affected by the exercise as if he’d sat flipping through a book the last hour.

Stiles came back downstairs, and saw the whole pack ready for Derek’s announced meeting. He slumped down on the couch beside Scott, not sure if he needed to be there or not. He’d probably just end up in a bad mood, already knowing some of the changes Derek would make.

Scott and he were making plans for a videogame match when all the voices around them quietened, and everyone sat up straighter. A second later, Stiles heard the front door open and Derek came in from the hall. Stiles' breath caught in his lungs, his whole focus zooming in on his alpha. Derek strode over, met Stiles' gaze for a moment but didn’t sit down on the couch beside him and Scott, choosing the loveseat instead. He motioned Stiles over, crooking his finger. Stiles rose, dazed, and Derek grabbed him by the waist, placing him into his lap. He instantly snuggled close to Derek, breathing in his forest scent and feeling both their hearts beating fast.

This didn’t seem like the actions of a man hating him.

As if from a distance, he caught Derek saying, “There’ll be at least two guards protecting the omega from now on,” and Stiles couldn’t find it in him to be angry about it anymore. As Derek had said, nothing was set in stone and this might not be a forever arrangement. After the long speech he’d received last night, he felt reassured that Derek wouldn’t let betas somewhere in the house stop him from attending to his omega or feel embarrassed.

Derek combed his fingers through Stiles' hair and Stiles felt a contentment spread through his body, as strong as never before.

***

Stiles came to, curled up on the loveseat covered with a blanket. Someone coughed nearby, and he opened his eyes. Boyd and Erica sat on the couch talking quietly, and Derek was nowhere to be seen.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Whass the time?”

“You’ve slept for an hour or so,” Erica said, trailing her hand over Boyd’s arm. “I bet you needed some rest, huh?” She winked at him. Boyd shot her a hard look, but she grinned wider. “Don’t worry, Bear, Stiles knows I’m messing with him.”

Stiles sent her a tentative smile.

Boyd didn’t appear reassured, his gaze searching Stiles' face.

“It’s fine,” Stiles brushed it away. It was true anyway; he and Erica always had a teasing tone. It just hit a little too close to home at the moment.

Boyd raised his eyebrows, turning to Erica and jerking his head to Stiles. “See?”

“No!” Stiles rushed to correct. “It’s fine! Me and Erica go a long way back. _Bear_.”

Erica snickered. “Hey, when you and Derek decide to sex each other up, all’s good in the world in our book. You know that right?”

“Uhm.” Stiles scratched his hair. “I guess?”

“Stiles,” Boyd said pausing, perhaps looking for the right words. “We betas know it was never like this with Laura and you. You were just … I guess, very close friends trying to make your life and situation as easy as possible for each other.”

“Yeah!” Erica agreed, flapping her hair over her shoulder before studying her nails on her trigger hand. “It was fine and all, no one thought anything of it, but with how it’s all coming together now with Derek and you …" She met his gaze. “I guess we never knew what we were missing, you know?” She came over and sat down beside him with her arm around his shoulder. “You know we all love you, right? I know it’s impossible to separate our instincts from our intellect--it’s like that for the whole pack, right? But there’s nothing either of us want more than a happy alpha/omega couple. It’s the greatest gift a pack can get, and it makes us all so much stronger.”

“Yeah, but …” Stiles needed to correct them; he couldn’t have them believe that he and their alpha were in love or anything, but Boyd interrupted him.

“I felt it at our meeting.” Boyd stared into the air, his gaze glassy. “When Derek came inside and the energy flew between the two of you …”

Erica squeezed her thighs together. “Yeah,” she said dreamily, “it was like we all had a small pack orgasm.”

Stiles coughed, pulling her arm off his shoulder, and she instantly punched his arm, laughing again. “I guess it’s a good thing,” Stiles said, rising. “I hope …”

Erica grinned at him. “Of course it’s a good thing! It’s awesome!” She grabbed his hand, pulling him into the kitchen. Boyd followed. She asked, “Remember what we talked about at breakfast the other day? I told you to just talk to him and you’d see he doesn’t hate you--it’s quite the opposite!”

Stiles gaped at her, and her gaze flickered over to Boyd.

“You have talked, right?”

Stiles shrugged. “A little?”

She flapped her hands out. “Jesus! Guys!” She snapped a cookbook from the counter, licked her forefinger, and scrolled through the pages. “Ah!” She stopped and handed Boyd the book at an open page before she pulled a chair out and sat down.

Stiles reached for a chair for himself, but she pointed at him. “Oh no, mister! You’re going to help him bake me cupcakes. I sure as hell need it.” She threw her feet up at the other chair and looked at them with her eyebrows raised.

Stiles shuffled over to Boyd. “Ugh, I hate baking! Can’t we do something fun instead?”

Boyd appeared engrossed in the recipe. “Speak for yourself, omega. I enjoy baking, and you’re gonna help me.”

“Ah, damn it all.” Stiles shook his head, but put on the apron Boyd handed him.

***

Stiles' jaw cracked at his huge yawn. It was tiring stuff handing Scott his ass in their video game match, especially when his mind was completely elsewhere.

The front door opened.

Scott said, “It’s Derek.”

Stiles scrambled upright, instantly alert. He heard Kira talk in the kitchen and Derek’s deep voice answering. He felt that rumbling sound all the way to his toes.

“Hell, yeah!” Scott punched Stiles' arm, making him jump. “Fucking finally I won!”

Stiles heard Scott’s cheer, but his friend faded away as a large form appeared in the kitchen door, leaning against the frame. Derek studied him, silently eating a leftover cupcake.

Stiles got another punch from Scott. “Hey, you’re _letting_ me win?”

Stiles' mouth went dry, watching Derek lick purple icing and heart frosting off his long fingers.

“Oh.” Scott slumped back on the couch.

Kira brushed past Derek and sat down beside Scott, sharing her cupcake with him, and he cheered up again. Stiles registered them somewhere at the back of his mind, but his gaze wandered up and down his alpha’s frame, over his long limbs and hard muscles. The look Derek had in his eyes as he watched Stiles made Stiles' heart pound like it had after his run with Boyd.

Derek sucked his finger into his mouth and slowly pulling it out while he held Stiles' gaze. Stiles felt his body rise from the couch without his conscious decision and take a step forward.

Derek walked past him, and the man let his lower arm brush over Stiles' for a fraction of a second. It felt like an eternity. Derek headed for the stairs, turning at the last moment.

"Coming?"

Stiles nodded, and judging by the voices coming from the couch, he acted like an eager pup following its master. He ran upstairs, but slowed down before he entered Derek's bedroom. His plans to have a serious conversation flew out the window and his mind went blank: Derek had taken off his shirt and was working on getting his jeans open.

"Close the door," Derek ordered as he sat down on the bed, pulling off his socks.

Stiles did as he was told without taking his eyes off the man and started to take off his own clothes. In only his briefs, Derek leaned back on the mattress, resting on his hands, his gaze on Stiles' movements. Stiles fumbled with his pants; the damn belt fought his fingers, his face and chest heated under Derek's loaded gaze.

"What do you want, Stiles?" Derek asked, his voice low and a little raspy.

"Uhm." Stiles steadied himself on the wall, pulling his pants off his foot. He knew what he wanted, but he’d never ask for it. He’d pushed his own limits far enough already. If he told Derek he wanted more than Derek’s fingers up his butt--for them to choose to do it and not be forced to by his heat--he’d reveal too much, and Derek would know Stiles' feelings for him.

Stiles felt too vulnerable already as an omega.

Through observing his alpha’s behavior lately, he was starting to feel pretty sure that Derek didn't hate him. Instincts be damned, there was no way could this be only alpha hormones, chemistry. It had to be something more.

Finally down to his briefs, he stood by the wall for a second, shifting from foot to foot, not sure what to do.

Then Derek reached out his hand. "C’mere."

Stiles tried his best to not run towards the man. He needed his alpha, but most of all, he wanted him because he was Derek. Within reach, Derek grabbed his hands and pulled Stiles closer, so he stood between Derek’s knees and they could study each other’s faces closely.

“I want you to sleep in my bed,” Derek said, stroking his thumbs over Stiles' palms.

Stiles' knees shook. His whole body came on fire from the simple touch, from Derek’s smell and in anticipation of what Derek’s actions meant. He nodded. “Okay.”

Derek’s gaze flickered between Stiles' eyes. “No more mattress on the floor, sleeping on the couch, or in your own room.” He cupped Stiles' chin, stroking his cheek. “I know you had your own bed when Laura was your alpha, and you can still keep it to take naps or whatever. But I want you to sleep in my bed every night.”

Stiles gasped. “Why?”

Derek scowled. “You don’t want to? You seemed to sleep well beside me. You didn’t have any nightmares for the first time since it happened.”

Stiles cast his gaze down. “Yes, I slept well.”

Derek nodded, and let Stiles' chin go, his hand falling slowly, brushing over Stiles' chest. “I’ve never slept better in my life, having you close to me.” Derek’s fingers brushed past his nipple.

“Oh!” Stiles sucked in a breath, watching Derek’s gaze trained at what he did with his hand, stroking light as a feather over the sides of Stiles' ribs. His whole body erupted in goosebumps, feeling the heat from Derek’s body. His briefs became tighter.

Derek said low, “Besides, I enjoy touching you.”

Stiles squeaked. “You do?”

Derek’s gaze snapped to Stiles', his eyes dark as the night. “Yes, very much so.” He caressed Stiles' back, pressing Stiles forward with his warm hands so his nose brushed over Stiles' chest. “Your skin’s so smooth.” Derek kissed it. His hands glided down Stiles' back to cover his butt, grabbing his cheeks over his briefs. “You’re firm in all the right places.”

Derek pressed Stiles' hips to his chest, making Stiles' dick twitched. “God, I want you,” Derek breathed, kneading Stiles' butt.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed back, his pulse thundering in his ears.

Derek looked up, his eyes mere slits.

Stiles nodded frantically.

Derek grinned and fell back on the bed with Stiles on top. He grabbed Stiles' hair, tilted his head so their lips could meet, and kissed him hard.

Stiles gasped into Derek’s mouth, his body responding instantly, knowing what to do. He couldn’t keep still, but humped on Derek’s leg, his control blown out the window.


	13. Chapter 13

Derek groaned deep against Stiles' mouth. His omega felt so willing, so enthusiastic, that Derek started to wonder if Stiles might actually want this, not only as an omega needing his alpha--a primary need--but as a conscious choice.

He felt Stiles' hard dick pressed against him, and he wanted to touch him, to see him and taste him all over. He grabbed Stiles' butt, kneading his firm cheeks through the material. God, he needed them skin on skin, all over. He pushed his hands under Stiles' underwear.

"Oh, yeah," Stiles groaned into Derek's mouth.

"You feel so good," Derek mumbled, seeking out Stiles' ear and biting at his lobe. Stiles' whole body shuddered against his, a gasp escaping his mouth. Derek needed to see him, had to look at his face to see his reactions, so he flipped them over, lay himself on top instead.

Stiles looked completely dazed, almost like when he’d been in heat, with his gaze far away, but as Derek studied him his eyes became focused.

"Hey," Derek whispered, "there you are." He stroked over Stiles’ eyebrows down to his cheekbones, and watched his lashes fluttered.

"What're you thinking?" Stiles mumbled, wetting his roughly used lips.

"Mm," Derek said, "I'm thinking about you." He combed his fingers into Stiles' hair, the way Stiles loved.

Sure enough, Stiles groaned, closing his eyes. "Y’are?"

"Yes." Derek struggled to find the right words. Hell, he hardly could when he was alone thinking about his omega, so with Stiles right under him, warm and firm in all the right places. . . But he needed to say something about what he thought, without scaring Stiles in the process. "I'm thinking about how fortunate our pack is. After all we’ve been through, turned upside down, still, here you are. Our pack still got you."

Stiles opened his eyes, flicking his gaze between Derek's, his mouth half-open.

Derek’s heart skipped a beat. "We still have our omega."

I've got you. He didn't dare say it out loud.

Stiles belonged to him, and the thought would be hard to get used to. Would he ever? Each time it hit him--waking up at night or popping up during the day--it threw him for a loop, the whole package with butterflies and focus impossible. Derek pressed his lips together, had to prevent the treacherous words from coming out of his mouth--from saying what he really felt.

Stiles watched him in wonder. Derek would give anything to read Stiles' mind right now, to know how much to say, what to reveal. What would scare his omega away, and what would help strengthen their bond?

But he had to be careful. He had such a good thing going on here now, and he'd do anything for it to last, even if he hadn’t deserved it. If he lost Stiles too, his life would be over.

"Derek," Stiles whispered, and Derek focused on his mouth. "Kiss me."

Heat flared through Derek as he pressed his mouth to Stiles' and did what his body told him. He grabbed Stiles' knees and made room for himself, rubbed their hard-ons against each other. Stiles arched his back, gasping for breath, and Derek dived in for his throat, licking over Stiles' pulse. It fluttered under his lips.

“Shit, Stiles!”

He grabbed Stiles' briefs and struggled to pull them off, offending bastards. Stiles raised his hips, kicked the stupid fabric away and yanked at Derek’s. Then they were completely naked against each other, and Derek couldn’t think anymore. It felt like sinking into a hot, scented bath after a long fight. The strong scents coming from Stiles made his mind spin. “You smell so good!” he moaned against Stiles' throat.

“Fuck, Derek! I need you!” Stiles squirmed under him, his voice slurred with lust.

Derek reached for Stiles' dick and felt the smooth skin--almost like silk--over the hardness. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, and wetness coated his finger. He needed to taste it. He crawled down, lay on his stomach between Stiles' legs.

Stiles lifted his head, face flushed. “Huh?”

Derek took Stiles' dick in hand, held it up, and licked him from base to tip where he finally got Stiles' precome in his mouth. “Oh, yeah, you taste so good,” he groaned.

Stiles flung his arm over his face. “Good God!”

Derek circled the swollen head with his tongue before he took it into his mouth, sucking at it. He couldn’t keep his own hips still, but ground against the mattress, out of control, humping at the taste of his omega’s flesh.

Stiles' tense legs trembled beside Derek and his dick jerked in Derek’s mouth, his taste becoming stronger.

It hurt Derek’s cock to chafe against the bedding and he sat up on his knees, bending forward to keep his mouth on Stiles, and grabbed his own dick, jacking it.

Stiles bucked against the mattress, groaning into his arm, fucking himself jerkily in Derek’s mouth. Drool from Derek’s mouth ran down Stiles' dick, making it wet and slippery and Derek groaned around it.

“Oh, please, please!” Stiles moaned into the inside of his elbow, his body tense.

Derek pulled off and grabbed Stiles' dick in his fist. “Look at me.”

Stiles' gaze snapped to Derek’s. His whole face and chest were flushed, his eyes almost black, making Derek’s pulse speed up at the sight. “Shit,” Derek whispered, taking in the whole scene with Stiles naked and craving him. “What do you want?” He’d do anything.

“Mm,” Stiles said only.

Derek gave Stiles' dick a jerk, trying to get him to focus. Stiles' gaze traveled down to Derek’s hand on his own cock. “Fuck! You do like it.”

Derek gripped hard at the base of Stiles' dick to get his mind to work. “What do you want me to do to you?”

Stiles' whole body tensed. “More, Derek. More!” He tried to jerk himself in Derek’s grip, but Derek held him firm. He found Stiles' tight opening behind his balls, where his omega’s own fluids made him slippery. “Here? You want my fingers in you?”

“Shit!” Stiles seemed unable to keep still. “Do I have to say it?” he ground out.

“You don’t want my fingers, then?” Derek teased, having an idea of what Stiles wanted, but yes, he needed to hear Stiles say it.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, trusted his fingers hard inside. “Yes!”

Derek chuckled. He’d made Stiles completely out of his mind. He shook Stiles' hand off his and rubbed Stiles slowly on the inside of his wet opening at his own pace, loving the smell and the sound his fingers made in the fluids there. Stiles' whole body tensed in a bow of frustration, but Derek continued to slowly rub in and out.

“Ah, Derek, please!”

Derek kissed his stomach. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it,” he murmured against Stiles' skin. “Just say it.”

Stiles raised his knees, and fucked himself on Derek’s hand, made Derek watch his own fingers disappear and reappear inside Stiles' opening, glistening with his lube. The sight made him consider letting Stiles come on his hand, but he wanted the same as Stiles.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” Stiles gasped, fucking himself faster. “Just stick it in me would you! Shit! God damn, just do it!”

Derek stilled his fingers, held a hand on Stiles' lower abdomen to keep him still. Stiles keened, sounded beyond frustrated. “It? You want my cock, omega? You want me to fuck you properly?”

“Ah! Shit! Fuck! Yes!” Stiles gripped the pillow, pressed it over his face.

Derek tutted, snatched the pillow away. “No, no, that won’t do.”

“Huh?”

Derek placed the pillow under Stiles' hips instead, taking his time arranging his omega just the way he wanted him. “You don’t get to hide from me. This time when I’m fucking you, I’m fucking you for real. Now I know you want it, and I need to see your face, to look at you as I take you.”

Stiles swallowed hard, his mouth slack.

Pleased with Stiles' reaction, Derek smiled. “That’s it, place your feet here on the mattress. Grab that other pillow and place it under your head so you can see what I do to you. Yes, like that.” He stroked up and down Stiles' thighs. “There, perfect.”

Stiles' eyes were glazed over, but he seemed more present now, more focused. Derek nodded satisfied before he leaned in and kissed him. Stiles gripped the hair at the back of Derek’s head, groaning into his mouth.

“I’ve thought so much about doing this to you,” Derek admitted against Stiles' ear, his mouth clearly not listening to his mind’s resolve on keeping quiet.

“Fuck! You have?” Stiles gasped, pressing his chest against Derek’s.

“Mm, I want to do this properly now, not just mount you while you’re in heat.”

Stiles squirmed. "Oh, fuck! Yes, please!"

At the admission, Derek barely managed to not plow his omega right away, no matter his resolve. He eagerly grabbed Stiles' knees and bent them out, seeing Stiles' wet entrance ready for him. He grabbed his cock and steered the plump head to the opening, feeling the warmth and wetness around his sensitive skin. He pushed the head down with his forefinger, watching it slide inside with ease.

Stiles gasped under him, his gaze dark and trained on Derek's face. "How does it feel?" Stiles whispered.

Shit! This sounded like dirty talk - and it came from his omega! Hearing it made his blood boil and only a decade of holding himself back kept him from thrusting inside to the hilt. He retreated a little, held his cock-head with his fingers, slipping it slowly up and down Stiles' crease, smearing the wetness around. "What d’you think?" he murmured. "It feels amazing."

He glanced at Stiles' face, and then he couldn't look away. Looking at his omega’s reactions was even more erotic than watching his dick slip inside. He held Stiles' gaze, lying down on top of him, held himself up on his elbows, and plunged his tongue inside Stiles' mouth at the same time as he buried his cock to the hilt in warm tightness.

Stiles groaned deep into the kiss, his back bowing, and pressing their stomachs together.

Derek started out with slow, deliberate thrusts while kissing deep and filthy. Stiles responded to him perfectly, so he quickly sped up and fucked deep. Stiles grunted into Derek's mouth every time Derek pushed the air out of his lungs, a rhythmic sound accompanying the wet slapping.

_This is how sex with my omega sounds like_ , flew through Derek's mind, and he had to slow down to not come right away. Fuck!

He went for Stiles' throat, kissing and biting against the pulse thundering under his lips. "You feel so good," he moaned against Stiles' sweaty skin.

Stiles squeezed his feet against Derek's butt, forcing Derek deep inside and his arms clung around Derek's neck so they were as close as possible, working together. Derek couldn't keep up this pace for much longer--pleasure ripped through him, and a tightness settled at the bottom of his stomach.

"Shit!" he groaned, slowing down and leaning over on one arm. Stiles had his eyelids squeezed hard together, head thrown back. "Hey," Derek said, stopping completely, and to his relief Stiles opened his eyes immediately and caught Derek's gaze. "Am I hurting you?"

Stiles shook his head.

Derek frowned, glancing down Stiles' body, stroking over the sweat slicked skin. Stiles still had a hard-on. He grasped it, jerking it slowly, and Stiles gasped.

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand on his dick, holding it still, gasping, "I'm trying not to come."

Derek breathed out in relief. He shifted backward, settling onto his heels, his hand still holding Stiles' dick firm, and jerked it in smooth strokes, matching his hips pumps.

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut again.

"No," Derek told him, "open up. I wanna see you when you come."

"Oh god," Stiles gasped, but he managed to hold his gaze on Derek's, and Derek saw pleasure wash over his omega’s face while he rhythmically fucked and jerked him. He looked feverish with his slurred gaze and flushed face, but the moans he made were pure pleasure.

Stiles' gaze traveled down Derek's torso, and without warning, his whole body tensed and his legs squeezed around Derek. Come squirted from his dick all over Derek's hand, making it even easier to jerk him, and Derek kept it up until he came too, deep inside Stiles, grunting and moaning as they still managed to keep their eyes locked.

When the spasms in his stomach eased, he almost fell over Stiles' warm body. Stiles held around him while they both caught their breaths.

I love you, Derek thought. He bit his lip until it bled to keep the words from slipping out. Shit! He had to be careful, especially when he was on such a high and vulnerable. His whole body erupted in goosebumps, fear rolling through him. First, he’d admitted to Stiles that he wanted to fuck him--hell, this had been more like making love, damnit--and then he almost told him exactly how he felt.

_Way to go, Derek! Hammer in the last nail to your coffin! Force your omega to lie, to pretend to return your feelings_. Had he now made Stiles want to run as soon as Derek fell asleep and his grip around Stiles loosened enough for him to flee?

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Stiles woke in the middle of the night, feeling satisfied and comfortable in Derek's arms. It’d been the most intense experience of his life, both of them coming hard while staring into each other's eyes. He’d thought for a minute there that he saw something in Derek's gaze, something that reminded him of his own feelings for his alpha, but the man had blinked it away and fallen on top of him, sweaty and spent. Derek fell asleep holding him close and Stiles had soon followed.

Now, he lay with his head on Derek's muscular chest, Derek’s dark hair tickling his nose, and he wanted to keep lying here for the rest of the night, but he had to pee.

Reluctantly he slipped out from Derek's protective grip and padded out into the hall. He didn’t hear any sounds from downstairs. Scott told him earlier that Isaac and Allison would be here tonight, and they must be watching TV with the sound muffled or something. It was a little odd since he usually heard something from his guards signaling to him that they were close by.

Stiles shrugged and tiptoed into the bathroom, opening the door in the moonlight, but then it all went dark around him.

***

He woke with a hammering headache and a parched throat. He coughed.

"Ah, finally--princess’s awake."

He didn’t know that voice, did he? His head thundered, making it almost impossible to think.

A pair of shoes came in front of his field of vision. Muddy sneakers. Stiles squinted to see an unfamiliar alpha sneer at him, his teeth yellow. He got a kick in the stomach, making him double over before the feet retreated and a door closed.

Stiles shifted carefully onto his back trying to catch his breath. He lay in a small room with bare brick walls, a moist floor, and a moldy smell; perhaps a basement or storage room. A small window sat high up under the ceiling with daylight seeping in.

He tried to sit up, but his head swam and nausea overtook him soon. His naked skin pebbled with goosebumps.

The door opened again and a muscular, intimidating alpha strode in, behaving like he was the boss, followed by the other alpha.

Stiles covered his privates with his hands, kept his mouth shut for now.

The two werewolves stopped at either side of him, and the first alpha kicked against Stiles' side. Stiles cringed away from it, but the boss alpha held up his hand and the foot got retreated. Stiles shivered, scared of what the first alpha would do if they became alone again.

Stiles coughed. "Where am I?"

"Don't worry about that, little one," the alpha said, his voice surprisingly soft. "We've brought you to where you belong; to a real pack where you’ll be properly looked after and all your needs met." The alpha hunched down, and Stiles pressed himself against the moist wall, but the alpha followed. He peered at him, looking Stiles over from head to foot and up again. "Your previous alpha is a disgrace to our kind, unable to keep his omega and territory safe." He tutted and reached out, touching Stiles' face.

Completely trapped in place, Stiles shook all over.

The alpha stroked the back of his knuckles over Stiles' chin. "Such a pretty little thing. Soft skin and clever eyes. You'll give me healthy alpha pups soon, I can tell. You won’t be as stupid as our last omega." He grabbed Stiles' hands, uncovering his penis, and a wide grin spread on the alpha’s face.

He leaned in to Stiles' ear, and Stiles stared horrified at his face. "I have the right equipment to breed you. Don’t worry, sweetling."

The alpha breathed in deep over Stiles, then retreated his head so Stiles saw him closing his eyes and nostrils wrinkling. "You smell like him, though, like your weak alpha’s come and sweat. It’s disgusting. I'll have you cleaned before I take you." He ruffled Stiles' hair, and Stiles realized he'd closed his eyes so he opened them again, recognizing that he needed to be on the lookout for a way to escape.

The alpha rose, chuckling, and spoke to the other alpha. "Look at him, Ennis, he can hardly wait for my knot." The alpha grabbed himself between his legs, and Stiles' gaze followed the movement, shuddered at the sight of his arousal. The alpha's laugh boomed in the room, and Ennis’ snickers followed soon after. They strode to the door. "Make him wash and put him in the bedroom we found upstairs. There’s something off with his scent, but it’ll probably go away after a scrub down. I want to mount him this morning--better start right away to get him into heat. Have him ready for me when I return."

“Yes, Duke.” Ennis closed the door after Duke and turned his face to Stiles' with a wicked glint in his eyes. Striding back, he looked like he intended to eat Stiles. In this strange pack with two alphas, where rules seemed to be bent to their own purpose, what would hold Ennis back from taking what he wanted, even if Duke behaved like he was the boss alpha?

Ennis snickered. "You scared of me, princess?" He gripped Stiles' arm, hoisting him up like a ragdoll. Stiles' feet refused to cooperate and hold him, but Ennis held him hard enough. Too hard. Stiles blinked away tears forming in his eyes.

Ennis stuck his nose to Stiles' throat and breathed in deep and raggedly. "Duke's right you know, you smell of sex." He grabbed Stiles' hand and pressed it to his pants, rubbed Stiles' fingers over his erection, moaning. "Feel what your smell does to me? I'm gonna have some fun with you before you shower off your old alpha’s stench. Before Duke breeds you. Fuck! You're gonna look so good with your belly swollen with our alpha pup. You know, Duke won't care what we do to you after he's filled you up with his seed. When you have our alpha pup in you, I'm gonna fuck you day and night, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. At night we'll pass you around and all have our turn with you. Your hole won't be empty ever again, just how it should be for an omega." Ennis groaned deep, rubbing Stiles' hand over his dick faster and faster. "Fuck, you're making me come already! You greedy little bitch. You want it so bad, you can't wait for it, can you?"

Ennis hunched forward, grunted, and Stiles felt warm wetness coat his hand. He swallowed down vomit, again and again, his knees still sagging.

Ennis opened his eyes, flashing red, suddenly dark with threat. "Not a peep about this to Duke." He shook Stiles hard, so his head smacked against the wall. "Not until he's bred you! It's not safe for the two of us before he's filled you up."

Would it help Stiles if he risked telling Duke about Ennis? Or perhaps there were other pack members around that could save him from Ennis now that he had some leverage on him.

Stiles kept his mouth shut. Who knew what the other members would do to him?

Surely they wouldn’t kill him if they’d gone to these lengths to get an alpha pup?

Ennis dragged him out of the room, and up a set of stairs, into a hall full of other alphas, staring and grinning. Fuck! A whole pack of alphas?

"Had some fun, Ennis?" someone growled beside them, tone hushed.

"Fuck off, Ethan," Ennis sneered, "I'm taking him upstairs to clean him before he's bred.”

Ethan grabbed Stiles' other arm, and pain ripped through him at their grips. “I don’t think so. You can’t seem to keep your hands off him by the smell of it! Duke would most certainly not like it if it ends up being your seeds that make the pup!”

The alphas pulled Stiles' arms in each direction, and Stiles cried out, unable to stop it. Immediately, Ennis jerked his hand away like Stiles burned him. Ethan flicked his head to the others. “Get out of here. I’m taking over.”

Ethan pulled Stiles up another set of stairs, pushing garbage away with his feet, laughter and howls following them on their way. He pushed Stiles inside a bathroom where he closed the door and held Stiles' arm while he turned on the shower. "Get in," he ordered, letting Stiles go. Without the support, Stiles fell against the shower wall, yelping at the cold water.

"Rinse up!" Ethan threw a dried-up soap bar at him that Stiles luckily caught it in the air. He reluctantly soaped up, gaze on Ethan who turned to the toilet and opened his pants, peeing.

“You’re gonna watch me?” he asked without looking at Stiles.

Stiles swayed, his breathing shallow at the display of who had all the power.

He turned away and washed with shaking hands, which made it easy to go slowly, stalling even if he wanted out of the cold. He didn't want the smell of Derek to go away. He wanted Duke to be able to smell Derek all over him, for Stiles to be marked territory. He sniffed, bit his cheek to hold himself back from breaking down. He’d fight to the bitter end, no matter what.

Ethan turned off the water and strode out in the hall, waving his hand for Stiles to follow. "Be quick about it! He's not going to wait patiently, you know. The more pliant you are, the less he'll hurt you."

Duke planned to rape him and Stiles couldn’t think of anything that could prevent it. He shook all over and couldn’t stop the tears, as scared as he’d never been in his life. Ethan grabbed his arm. “Shh now.” But Stiles couldn’t keep quiet, especially not when Ethan behaved a fraction nicer than Ennis. “You’ll do good to prepare yourself for him.”

Stiles stared at Ethan who scowled in return.

“I smelled sex on you from your previous alpha, so you know how it works, right?”

Stiles blinked.

“Well?” Ethan leaned closer. “Finger yourself before he gets here so you’re wet enough. Then he won’t hurt you all that much, yeah?”

Ethan pulled him into another room where a bed stood by the wall. Stiles fell on top of it, dust thrown up in the air, and scrambled backwards to the wall immediately, biting his lip to keep quiet.

Ethan slapped his face. "Stop that! Your tears won’t stop Duke from breeding you! If you know what’s best for you, you'll lie still and not fight it. He’ll hurt you otherwise, that I can promise!"

But Stiles couldn’t stop his sobs.

“You’re not going to prepare yourself?”

Stiles shook his head, refusing to finger himself for that monster.

Ethan sighed and caught Stiles' arms, tying them to the bedpost, like there was anyway for him to escape. “Suit yourself.”

Stiles had to know. “What happened to your other omega?”

Ethan eyed him for a second before shaking his head, frowning. “He hanged himself, six months pregnant.” He walked to the door. “I’ll stand out here until Duke gets in.” He closed the door.

***

The bedroom looked as abandoned as the rest of the house with a thick coat of dust on all surfaces and the bedding smelled of mould. Stiles tried the rope around his wrists, thinking the bedpost might be rotten and give in, but it just broke his skin.

He heard voices out in the hall, and tensed further, but he had nowhere to hide. The door opened and Duke walked in, smelling the air. “Good. You’re clean of the stench.” His mouth spread in a wide grin, strolling over to the bed where he stopped, taking in Stiles' form. “You’re too thin, but I’ll fatten you up. I want a healthy pup from you, you hear me? That’ll be your responsibility when we get back to our territory. If you don’t do your best to give me a pup, I promise you’ll regret it!”

Stiles stared at the alpha struggling to form words. “Please! Please don’t do this!” Duke opened his own pants. Stiles couldn’t look at him any longer and stared at the ceiling covered with cobwebs, squeezing his legs together. “I don’t want this. Please, don’t hurt me.”

Duke climbed up on the mattress and smacked Stiles' face. “Shut your fucking mouth!” He pushed his knees between Stiles' legs. “It’s not up to an omega to decide what happens to its body. You’re an alpha possession, and I’ll do whatever I want to this flesh.” He’d pushed his pants down to his thighs, his already swollen cock pointing at Stiles. “And I’ll make you thank me for it. Every. Single. Time.”

“Please, don’t!” Stiles tried to squeeze his legs together. Duke laughed. Stiles couldn’t stop his sobs and turned his face away.

Duke lay on top of him, and bit his throat. Pained speared through Stiles, making him cry out. The alpha clasped a hand over Stiles' mouth, forcing the other between Stiles' open legs.

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t need you yelling in my ear,” he grunted, retreating his fingers. “You smell so good! You know, I’m actually starting to hope it’ll take some time before you’re impregnated, because you could be fun. I’ll have a go at you any time I feel like it until your heat comes. Then I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk so you’ll stay in bed and let my seeds do their work.”

Stiles knew Duke would rape him now, but first the alpha licked his fingers, the ones that’d been between Stiles' legs, and froze with them in his mouth.

Stiles glanced askew at him.

Duke tasted his fingers, his nostrils flaring. Then he turned his face to Stiles. “You son of a bitch!” He slapped Stiles so hard his ears rang and teeth chattered.

Stiles gasped, too shocked to cry out.

Duke punched his cheek, making him taste blood. Stiles yanked at the rope around his wrists, desperately trying to kick the furious alpha, but he didn’t stand a chance against the muscular werewolf.

The door flung open and Ethan appeared in the opening, concern on his face. “What’s going on, Duke?”

Duke jumped off Stiles, his gaze wild. “Fucking hell!” he yelled, spitting, and pushed Ethan aside, storming out.

Ethan opened and closed his mouth. “I’m going to find out what happened,” he said and turned to the door.

“No! Please don’t leave me here!” Stiles cried. “He’ll come back and kill me! Or Ennis will! Please!”

“I need to know what’s happening, but I’ll be back.”

Stiles shook, his whole body ready to run if he’d been free. But with a house full of crazy alphas, escape would be impossible anyway. The minutes ticked by. He heard shouting, loud smacks, and glass breaking. He had no idea how much time passed. His whole body became stiff with his arms over his head. He managed to lie halfway over to his side. The room darkened eventually.

The door flew open with a start, waking him from a half slumber, panic rushing through him. He squinted in the dark, trying to see who stood in the doorway breathing heavily. Fuck! His life ended now, no question about it.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Derek woke alone in his bed with his heart pounding. The room smelled strongly of Stiles and his sex, it overpowered every sensory input, even the feeling of instant alert. He sat up in the dark, restless and vigilant. So often these months since Peter killed Laura, he’d woken with nightmares, panicked, but this felt different.

He jumped up, listening for sounds in the house, but heard only the animals in the forest, hunting at night. No hearts beat in the house except for his own. And a smell took his mind straight back to the day he came back from New York; to Stiles, Laura, Peter and killing.

Instincts took over and he found himself downstairs in wolf form, senses on high alert. On the bottom of the stairs he slipped, only his sharp reflexes keeping him from falling over the bodies on the floor. Isaac and Allison lay in a wide pool of their own blood with dried footsteps leading out through the front door.

He howled. The whole forest listened.

Then he ran.  

***

Scott met up with him not far from where the blood-scented tracks ended.

He growled, “Someone’s taken Stiles.”

“Fuck! I knew something was wrong, and I was on my way to the house when I heard you.” Scott twisted around. “Where’s Isaac? Allison?” He stared at Derek.

Derek moved around, completely restless. “They’re dead! At the house! Someone’s taken Stiles!”

The rest of the pack came, talking to each other, but Derek couldn’t listen. “Let’s go!” he growled, ready to wait only a second for them to obey. Everyone froze with gazes ready for submission. But they didn’t move. _What the hell_?

Erica grabbed his shoulder. “Let’s call the others, to make sure everyone gets here. We need all our resources.” Their cell phones shone in the dark.

Derek paced. “A car was here. We’re following it!”

“We need to call first. It’ll take just a minute.”

It took years. Why the hell weren’t they on their way?

“Derek.” Erica held onto Boyd’s jacket. “We’ll watch over Isaac and Allison.”

He pulled at his fur. “Shit! Yeah, that’s good.” Frustration rippled through him. How could everyone else be so calm and sensible? The world was falling apart!

“We’re going any minute now,” Scott said beside him, sounding like he tried to calm Derek. It didn’t work.

There were yells far out in the forest, from different directions, and trucks came in from everywhere. Betas swarmed around him, and people from the council, interfering and having opinions. Police. He was the alpha, god damnit! They were supposed to do as he said! Now!

Too much inconsequential noise made it impossible to think. Hands touched his arms and his back, like they tried to comfort him. He didn’t need that shit, he needed action. “Let’s go!” he roared.

Quiet. Breathing. Heartbeats.

Did Stiles still breathe? Did his heart beat?

He ran before he knew it, but didn’t go far before he smashed into the ground, face first with Scott, Kira and other betas gripping his legs. He blinked, and there stood the territory’s sheriff in front of him. His scent resembled Stiles', and it made Derek able to focus on the man, take a moment to get his bearings. The sheriff’s pulse raced, and he smelled of fear, just like he’d done the day so many years ago when he came to their alpha with Stiles, the tiny baby of his, the new omega. It’d been such a long time since Derek last saw Stiles' dad, not since before Derek moved to New York. Derek breathed deeply in his smell, feeling closer to Stiles, and his pulse calmed a fraction.

“Son.” The sheriff clasped Derek’s shoulder as he rose. “We’re going to find him, but we can’t just run in blind.”

Derek shook his head. He didn’t need any other plan than to kill the kidnappers.

“We are going to find him.” The sheriff persisted stubbornly, like he believed it himself.

Derek didn’t. “I need to do something.”

“I know, Son. But if you find them now, I know there’ll be a bloodbath. Everyone could die, including Stiles and you. I don’t want that. Stiles won’t want that.”

“They deserve a bloodbath! I’m gonna kill them all!” He shook off the sheriff’s hand, who took a step back, behaving like the wise man Derek remembered him as.

Derek couldn’t keep still a second longer but shouted for explosions. Murder. Kill!

He spat out dirt, his betas sitting on his back to force him down, tying his hands, bending his arms back. He bucked them off, yelling, and tried to kick, but they caught his feet too. Fuck! How the hell had they found rope this strong?

“You need to stay here,” Scott said, keeping his distance.

Derek would kill him! Too much time had passed, and he shouldn’t have listened to them. Stiles could be getting killed this very minute!

“It’s being taken care of, Derek. You’re out of yourself.”

“I’m the alpha!” he spat. “I need to go! God damnit, they have my omega! Why’re you still here? Go and fucking find him!”

Scott nodded. “We’re going now. But you’re staying here by the truck.”

“No!” Derek jerked his arms, pain ripping through him, fueling his anger. He’d literally lose his limbs to find his omega.

“I’ll stay with him,” Kira said. “He can’t be left alone.”

Wheels spun beside him, then quietness descended except for Kira’s shallow breaths and Derek’s own thundering pulse.


	16. Chapter 16

Stiles' heart pounded so hard in his chest, he thought he’d have a heart attack. A large form came over to the bed, looming over him. It resembled Ethan, but Stiles couldn’t be completely sure under the bloody form. The werewolf made a wheezing sound everytime he took a shallow breath, his body completely covered in wounds and swollen bruises, his limbs looking deformed. Why wasn’t he healing?

Stiles coughed. “Ethan? he croaked.

Ethan grunted, his breathing shallow, and reached out for Stiles' hands, his fingers fumbling stiffly with the rope. Stiles held his breath.

Several moments later, Stiles' hands were free, and he rubbed his wrists as pins and needles raced through his arms. “Whass happening?” His teeth chattered. He felt so tense and frozen, he could hardly feel his bruises or get his head to work.

“They’re dead,” Ethan hissed. Something must have happened to his throat, making him speak like that.

“What?”

“The other alphas are dead. Duke’s killed them all.” Ethan stumbled back, swaying on his feet. “Can you stand? I can’t carry you.”

“Duke killed everyone?” He could hardly believe it.

Ethan shrugged, looking pained with his deformed body. “Go downstairs. Find a phone somewhere. Mine’s lost.”

Stiles didn’t move. “Where’s Duke?”

“He took off a while ago. I’ve been trying to come up here ever since.” Ethan sagged down on the bed, falling to his side. “C’me’ere,” he whispered, his fingers stretching out for Stiles, his eyes closing.

Stiles swallowed hard, took a hesitant step and leaned down. Ethan whispered, then stopped breathing.

***

Stiles' legs managed to carry him down the stairs where he stepped over bodies all around the hall. Despite what Ethan had said, some of them could still be alive and get up to kill him any moment. A phone lay on the kitchen counter. He pressed it and it lit up. Relieved, he stumbled out the open front door, looked around at the courtyard filled with beat up, empty trucks and a blood-smeared alpha hanging halfway out of one.

He pondered who to call. Derek was out of the question. Erica? No, he punched Scott’s number.

“Scott.”

Stiles began to cry, sank down on the gravel.

“Stiles?”

“Mm hm,” Stiles sniffed.

“Stiles! Where are you? Are you hurt?”

“I have no idea where I am. They’re all dead. But Duke drove away. Probably hours ago.”

Scott talked to someone; Stiles' dad? Then he asked, “Can you walk? Find out where you are? What does it look like?”

Stiles rose to his knees, stood swaying for a moment, looking around. “It’s an old farm house. But it looks like it’s been empty for years. There’s a road here. I’ll go.”

“Okay,” Scott breathed. “Keep me on the phone.”

Stiles walked for an eternity on the dirt road. “There’s no mailbox.” His heart pounded hard in his chest. He wanted Derek.

“Shh,” Scott murmured. “I know you’re upset, but it’s going to be alright. Kira’s with Derek. We had to tie him up.”

Stiles snorted despite himself.

“Yeah,” Scott said softly. “He was completely out of it, couldn’t think, just follow his instincts. He loves you, you know.”

Stiles didn’t want to hear about that right now, but turned his head in every direction, his wobbly legs making the dirt road impossibly long.

“He’s an idiot, though,” Scott said, “just like you.”

Stiles tried not to think about anything except for walking on this road. Isaac and Allison. _No, don't think_! Find out where you are, that's your job. “There’s a forest to my left. The road turns here, I think.” He passed a hill. “I have no idea what day it is. How long’ve I been away?”

“You were kidnapped last night.”

Stiles hummed, watching the sun starting to rise. “I’m walking towards east.” The dirt road turned finally and ended on a paved road. “Here’s an old sign. Hm, I’m pretty sure it says Harris Farm.”

“Alright! You sit by the sign and wait for us. And don’t move!”

Stiles sank down on the soft grass, unable to walk a foot more anyway. “It’s so cold,” he moaned.

“Do you have a jacket?”

“Mm, no, I’m naked.”

“Stiles! What were you thinking?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Scott still talked in his ear, but the words gave no meaning anymore. The phone beeped and he held it up, his hand shaking. “I don’t have any more power, Scott.”

“Damn!” Someone yelled in the background. “We’re coming, Stiles. If it dies on you, don’t worry.”

“M’kay.” Stiles closed his eyes for a second, stopped thinking.

***

Someone shook his shoulder, and he tried to open his eyes, heard yelling and truck tires screaming.

Warm hands lifted him and held him against a solid chest. Everything ached.

***

A steady beep woke Stiles up. He tried to open his eyes, but his lids felt too heavy. “Mm,” he grunted, the smell of hospital filling his nose.

“Son,” his dad said, sounding a hundred years old, squeezed his hand. Stiles tried to squeeze back.

“He’s waking up, Scott. Tell Derek?” His dad was on the phone, and a second passed. “What do you mean? He’s gone?”

Stiles' eyelids flew up to a too bright light, white walls burning him with sunlight.

His dad stood with his back to him, his hair white at the temples, his shoulders tight.

“He’s gone?” Stiles whispered.

His dad whirled around, and Stiles saw he had wrinkles he didn’t have last time they met.

***

Stiles lay on the couch at his dad’s house. His skin probably had permanent cushion marks by now. Scott rubbed his feet and laughed at Kira who was making fun of some action movie with bad stunts. Stiles would never laugh again.

“Baby,” Scott said, “can you go fix something to eat for Stiles?”

Kira rose. “Sure! What do you want, Stiles?”

“M’not hungry,” he mumbled.

“Okay.” Kira ruffled his hair on her way to the kitchen. “I’ll find you something anyway.”

“So . . .” Scott said low, like Kira wouldn’t hear it anyway. “How long’re you gonna keep this up, you think? He’s coming back, you know.” He continued to rub Stiles' feet.

“I can’t help it,” Stiles groaned, hiding his face in the pillow. “It’s all my fault. I’ve scared him away, and I’ll never see him again.” He’d already been too long without his alpha, and it’d just keep getting worse. Not exactly a hopeful future prospect.

“Yes, you will.” Scott sounded so sure.

Stiles lacked the energy to argue, healing without his alpha felt impossible.

“You take your time then,” Scott said. “But while you wait, you need to eat. That’s the only thing I won’t relent on.”

Stiles grunted. If he ate or not, it didn’t matter. Nothing did.

Kira sat a glass in front of him on the table with a straw in the thick liquid. Scott grabbed it and

held it to Stiles' mouth. “Drink! I’ll hold it here until you empty it, so start.”

Stiles raised his head and opened his mouth, nausea ripping through him at the movement.

***

He lay on his side on the couch, face against the wall. He didn’t have the energy to walk upstairs where his dad had made a bed for him. Someone snored in the chair beside him in the dark. He had to pee and it couldn’t wait any longer.

He fell over to his back and rolled out of the couch. He smelled too strong. How long he’d laid on that couch, he didn’t know. He went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, eyed the shower. If he undressed he could stand under the spray and let the water do its work to clean him. He rose, turned on the faucet and stepped in, fully dressed, turned his face to the spray. It felt good.

***

Cold water from the shower made him shiver but his stiff fingers wouldn’t let him turn off the faucet.

The door ripped open, off the hinges, making Stiles yelp.

Derek appeared in the doorway, his fur filthy and bloody. His gaze snapped to Stiles', looking dark and wild.

Stiles gasped, falling to the wall behind him. His teeth chattered. “Ddddd…”

Derek strode over and grabbed Stiles around the waist, nuzzling against his throat for a moment before hoisting Stiles up in his arms.

Stiles gripped Derek around his neck, clinging to him. “You came. You came,” he sobbed, feeling Scott pack a blanket around him.

“Taking him home?” Scott asked.

Derek grunted. “Make sure everyone gets there. We’re having a meeting.”

Stiles buried his face in Derek’s chest, didn’t care about the dirt and blood, his grip glued to his alpha. He shook all over, but not from cold anymore.


	17. Chapter 17

It was early morning when Derek entered the pack house again. This time, he carried his shaking omega over the threshold like a groom with his beloved groom, and Derek himself . . . he’d chosen to be the alpha.

Despite being in full control of his powers, and his mind still in stress mode, he felt exhausted. He carried Stiles--smelling of despair, hospital, and fear--up to the second floor and entered the bathroom. He sat Stiles on the toilet and helped him out of his wet clothes, getting a full view of his omega’s body. Stiles didn’t look much better than he did the day Derek saw him sleeping in the hospital bed with stitches in his split lip, a dark bruise on his temple, and the skin around his wrists red and irritated.

Derek bent in front of him, taking his hands. “Omega,” he said, watching Stiles' gaze rise to meet his. Good, Stiles could concentrate. “Your alpha’s here now and will take care of everything.”

Stiles dipped his head, his eyelids heavy and face drawn, but he appeared alert enough, and much more trusting than Derek had hoped for. Derek swallowed his self-doubt and rose, kissing Stiles' forehead in the process. He held out his hand. “We’ll take a warm shower, eat breakfast, and have a pack meeting. Then we’re taking a nap in our bed.”

Stiles held Derek’s gaze and took his hand, a slow smile spreading on the side of his mouth without stitches. Derek’s shoulders sagged, so relieved. His omega still trusted him after everything he’d let happen--it seemed too good to be true. No. He shook his head. Don’t think like that. From now on he’d expect trust and honesty. No more doubt or second guessing.

He stepped into the shower after Stiles, studying his boy turning to the spray, soaking from top to bottom, his shoulders sagging and head hanging low. Stiles' light skin bruised easily, and he had a dark mark on his right side, under his ribs, like he’d been kicked. Derek reached for it, followed the lines with his fingertips, watching Stiles' skin pebble despite the warm water. A low sob escaped Stiles and Derek turned the boy in his arms, holding him against his chest. He cradled Stiles' head in his arms, holding tight while Stiles' shaking slowly decreased.

“You’ve been so strong,” he murmured against Stiles' wet hair. “I’m so proud of you.”

Stiles raised his face with water drops in his lashes. Derek stroked them away. Stiles opened and closed his mouth while Derek waited patiently for him to speak, but nothing came out. In the end he grabbed a fluffy towel, wrapping it around Stiles. He reached for the shampoo and washed himself before following Stiles to their bedroom where they dressed. Most of Stiles' clothes were in Derek’s closet.

Derek grabbed Stiles' hand and walked downstairs.

Pack stood all around, but stepped away as Derek led his omega to the kitchen counter that someone already had filled with breakfast dishes. Derek’s stomach growled for the first time in days. When was the last time he ate? He filled his plate and grabbed a glass of juice. Stiles' plate had a piece of toast. Derek took it from him and filled it with omelet and fruit before he handed it back, eyebrows raised to dare Stiles to argue. He’d be damn if Stiles didn’t get some meat back on his body.

Stiles followed him to the couch where they sat down beside Erica and Boyd, who nodded at them, pushing their empty plates away. Derek made quick work of his food, and watched Stiles pick at his own. He crossed his arms over his chest, and sat staring at Stiles until he looked up. A warm flush spread over Stiles' face, but he quickly swallowed a few mouthfuls of his food.

“So,” Derek said, silence descending on the group. He noticed Stiles nudge his plate away, but decided not to push anymore right now, and settled for pulling Stiles to him. “I want to thank every one of you for all you’ve done these last few days. We’ve lost two friends, two betas we’ll never get back, and we almost lost our omega.”

Stiles climbed into Derek’s lap, and Derek put his arm around him. “We’ll arrange for their memorial shortly,” he paused, hearing sniffs from every corner, “but I wanted to tell you all that I’m really proud of how you’ve handled everything.” He looked pointedly at Scott. “Yes, also tying me up.” Scott gave him a curt nod. Scott should know he did the right thing under the circumstances; there’d been no way for them to know back then that the kidnapping alpha had erased all his pack by the time they found Stiles, creating the bloodbath himself that Derek had intended. “But if you ever do that to me again, I’ll rip your limbs off!”

A few laughed in nervousness or perhaps thinking he joked, but most remained quiet, respectful.

Stiles raised his head from Derek’s chest, looking at him. Derek stroked his hair. Stiles obviously hadn’t heard the whole story yet, but it could wait for now.

“So, what happened to you?” Erica asked from his left.

Derek knew she was really asking him why he'd taken off after seeing Stiles asleep but alive at the hospital. He breathed out slowly. He needed to be honest here, even if it didn’t put him in a good light. He looked at his omega, stroking his back. “When Stiles was safe, I . . . I had to take a personal break,” he managed to say.

There were nods all around, like his actions had been reasonable. They’d no clue about his need to take off, what he’d fought against in the beginning: to run away from it all to make their lives easier--not his own. Never his own. He’d had some time there in the forest where he thought the best thing he could do for his pack was to leave them alone forever. To let them handle everything on their own, without his fumbling and disastrous leadership. He’d almost gotten the omega killed, for God’s sake. Even if he didn’t have a beta too many and the death of two of had them hurt them all, losing the pack’s omega was in a league of its own. You simply didn’t let your omega get kidnapped. End of story. No matter his lack of knowledge about being an alpha, that much he knew for certain. And even if there weren’t signs of rape on Stiles, the omega had a foreign smell about him, even now, and Derek knew there was more to this story than the doctor said Stiles' body told him.

Scott nodded, like he _understood_ , but his beta never would, not without having the motivation Derek had. He kissed the top of Stiles' head absentmindedly, and Stiles snuggled against his chest, a deep sigh rolling over him in contentment.

Derek felt it all the way to his stomach, this love he had for Stiles, and it reminded him about his decision in the forest; he was too weak to stay away.

The decision made, he could only think of one way to make everything better for his pack than to make them function with a flawed alpha: he had to work as hard as possible for the rest of his life to be the best alpha he could manage.

He'd chosen to do his very best, and no matter how scary, and that involved letting Stiles in. He’d put himself out there, be open and honest, and expect it in return, both with his omega and his betas. He’d start listening to them and not bulldoze all over everyone.

The quiet room made him glance up. The pack watched him with Stiles curled up in his lap. The sheriff was there too and now dried his eyes with the back of his hand. Derek must have looked confused, because soon Erica patted his arm, smiling. “We’re grateful you’re both here and that Allison and Isaac didn’t die in vain.”

Derek swallowed hard, tried to push the tightness in his throat down. He coughed. “It was a close call,” he admitted in the end. Erica squeezed his shoulder.

“About that--” he began, pausing to make sure everyone heard, they need to know. “Last night I caught up with Duke.”

They all stared at him, like they'd forgotten the missing alpha of the kidnapping pack. Derek knew better, they'd done their best to find him. But no one had the determination Derek had--no one could have.

He hadn't been an alpha for a very long time. He'd never been trained to be one. But he belonged in this pack. This pack needed their alpha, the omega needed him, but most of all, Derek needed them.

Stiles stared, his eyes looking wider than ever in his drawn face. Derek stroked his cheek. “Yeah, he won't be bothering anyone in the future.”

Stiles swallowed, opened his mouth, but Derek closed it. “He’s dead,” he reassured Stiles.

“Oh, thank God!” someone whispered.

“No, thank Derek,” someone laughed, a sound of relief.

It felt like the start of a good feeling, Derek mused. He needed to look forward; honor his dead, and look to the future, because he had a pack to strengthen, a territory to make safe. He had some ideas on how to do it. Alliances to build with other packs. Other alphas to reach out to to get some pointers about this confusing omega business.

He watched Stiles yawn. Derek hadn’t slept in days, and Stiles looked like he needed a long nap.

The sheriff came over and squeezed Derek’s shoulder. “You did well, son.”

Derek jerked his head, sucked in a breath. He valued praise from his omega’s dad a lot.

The man glanced at the bundle in Derek's lap, ruffled his hair. “Make sure this one gets some meat on his bones, alpha?” Derek smiled; his thoughts exactly. Stiles' dad shifted his weight from foot to foot, but met his gaze. “See you soon?”

Derek nodded. “Sure. In fact I have a question for you. Would you consider a place in my Territory Council?” Why the town’s sheriff wasn’t already in it was a mystery.

Stiles' dad opened and closed his mouth, his gaze flicking between Derek’s eyes. “Uhm. Okay. If you have a need for a simple sheriff.” His cheeks flushed.

“Good!” Derek nodded, letting his gaze sweep over the group. “Tomorrow we’ll start the day with a meeting for the Territory Council, and in the afternoon, we’re having another pack meeting here where we’ll discuss ideas for the future. So everyone should have a think.”

Discuss ideas. He reminded himself he was the alpha, he still had control, just another type of control. _You can’t do this on your own. No one can. We’re all stronger together. I need them._

The pack members left while talking low amongst themselves. But some remained.

“We’re staying here for now,” Scott said, holding Kira’s hand, with Boyd and Erica close behind them. Derek nodded gratefully. He wanted his closest betas near, together right now, to have a pack house full of life. Scott slapped his back. “Good to have you back, man.”

As much as Derek enjoyed having Stiles in his lap, stroking his back, they needed some rest. Stiles lay completely still, leaning against his chest, like he soaked up Derek’s smell or something. “Hey, want to go take a nap?” he murmured against Stiles' hair.

Stiles stretched. He’d been quiet all through the meeting.

“Come, we’ll both feel better after some sleep.”

The omega rose. Derek grabbed his hand, silently pushing Stiles in front of him up the stairs and into their bedroom. He pulled the covers down and sat on the bed. “Come here,” he urged, settling Stiles down on the pillow. He followed, pulled the comforter over them and held Stiles to his chest.

The birds chirped outside the window in the sun. His eyes burned, but his mind wouldn’t turn off. “How are you?” he murmured, knowing Stiles was still awake too.

“I’ll be fine.”  

Derek raised the omega’s chin, catching his gaze; needed to see his eyes. Derek didn’t believe how lucky they’d been. There had to be a catch.

Stiles rested his chin on Derek’s chest, watching Derek’s face. “They gave me some bruises, but I’ll heal.”

Derek tightened his grip on him. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. It’s my fault.”

Stiles frowned, but Derek added, “You’re my responsibility, and I can’t believe how you still can trust me. How’s it you can stand to be in bed with me right now?”

Stiles smiled a smile that quickly disappeared, but the light it brought to his eyes didn’t. “Derek.”

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“I love you, okay? I think I always did, always have, even if I didn’t know what it was that drew me to you. I couldn’t really think about it, you know? We were never supposed to be, you and I, and I can't honestly imagine Laura being okay with us.”

Derek snorted, because no, he couldn’t either. In his stomach, a lightness spread through his chest and up to his throat, making his head spin, and he held on tighter to his boy.

Stiles' gaze zoomed in on Derek’s lower face where he stroked over Derek’s scruffy chin. “I want us to be together. Not because we must, or we’re forced to, but because we want it.”

Derek opened his mouth and closed it again. Stiles said the words just like he’d say them himself. His throat tightened and his answer stuck. He had to reassure this incredible creature lying here with him. “Stiles,” he breathed out. “I love you. I always have.”

Stiles' gaze snapped to his, frowning.

“It’s true,” Derek said softly, finding the words easy to say once he started, even if he over a decade thought he’d never utter them. “When we were kids, you smelled so good and I thought you were really cute. I loved spending time with you, and looking after you.”

Stiles smiled fondly, clearly remembering.

“Then we grew older, and I realized my feelings for you were different from the other betas’--much stronger.”

Stiles stared at him. Derek could tell Stiles had never had any idea about Derek’s feelings, which had been a good thing before, and probably saved Derek's life as a beta in the pack. But everything had changed. He never had to hide anymore, and he never would.

“I’ve always loved you, and I've always had to hide it from everyone, especially from our alpha.”

Stiles looked at him with wonder, his eyes shining.

“You see, I had to push you away,” Derek admitted. “And as it turned out, you weren’t easy to push. So I had to be tough about it. I know I confused you and hurt you, and for that I'm really sorry, but I did it to keep sane and for my life in the pack.”

Stiles' mouth made a little "o."

“But none of that matters now. I want you to know you’re it for me, not because nature wants it, but because I choose you. I'll never leave you, ever again, no matter how little I feel I deserve you, and you can always trust me to do anything for you. I promise to be a better alpha from now on, and to build a safe territory around you and the betas. I can promise you this, because I believe it.”

Stiles pressed forward, brushing his lips over Derek’s. “I'm so relieved to hear it, you have no idea.” Stiles' sweet breath washed over Derek’s face, and Derek groaned deep in his chest. His cock burgeoned, as if on cue, his body reacting to his omega like one of Pavlov’s dogs, but he ignored it.

“I need to apologise to you,” Derek said soft. “As a beta, I always thought of you, the omega, as a person with the ability to form opinions and make conscious decisions like the rest of the pack, and not purely driven by instincts like they thought in the old days and some still do. When I first became an alpha, I was dead set on sticking to that, no matter what my new instincts told me to do.

“But then you told me you wanted me.” Derek swallowed hard, but his voice came out hoarse anyway. “It was everything I’d ever dreamed of, but worked so hard to suppress. I just couldn’t believe it, and blamed everything on your instincts.

“It was wrong of me, and the exact opposite of what I wanted. I realize now that I can trust you to tell me the truth about what you want. You’re complex like everyone else, and the right mix of instinct and intellect.”

Derek fell quiet, stroking over Stiles' back. At some point in his time on the hunt for the runaway alpha, he’d chosen his role as an alpha, and that made it easier to accept and embrace it. Somehow, it made the whole difference to him, and he felt much stronger in all of his responsibilities, and secure in his new role in the pack.

But his high-paid confidence received its first test right away.

Stiles whispered in his ear, for only Derek to hear. "The pack kidnapped me to breed me, but the alpha couldn't. I'm carrying your heir already."

  
  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://darkhairedguys.tumblr.com/) and [Pinterest](https://no.pinterest.com/dragontattoo75/).


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